Big O Season Four
by A.C.T. of Paradigm
Summary: In the Original Big O Season 3, the world was saved, but the City of Amnesia is still deeply threatened. Will our heroes triumph? Will Roger and Dorothy's love prosper? Can Angel keep her hands off other people's boyfriends? Big O action! Robot Battles! Creepy technology! True love! [Rated M for sexual situations. Roger/Dorothy, Beck/Dori, Angel/?]
1. Act 40: The Return of Alan Gabriel

_**Author's Note:** If you haven't already read my _Original Big O Season Three _or_ Crime Pays: A Big O Love Story, _you'll find yourself wondering when Beck acquired his Megadeus and (more or less) gave up his life of crime, not to mention how he acquired his android girlfriend, R. Dori Wayneright. Just take it on faith and enjoy the ride or go back and read the earlier chapters of this continuing Big O saga._

* * *

Roger Smith awoke slowly to the sound of piano music; a sweet, happy tune. He couldn't place it. For some reason it filled him with sadness. Suddenly wide awake, he got out of bed and reached for his bathrobe.

The singing began just as he put on his slippers; a cheerful alto voice. It terrified him; doubly so when the voice and piano stopped abruptly. He ran to the door of his bedroom.

In the penthouse, he saw R. Instro sitting at the piano and R. Dorothy standing beside it, her elbows on the closed lid, her face in her hands.

Roger ran to her. "Dorothy!"

Then she was in his arms, holding him tight, sobbing.

 _Am I dreaming?_ he wondered. As an android, sobs and tears were among the few things R. Dorothy was incapable of, weren't they?

She gradually subsided, then looked up at him. Half-expecting to see her face streaked with tears, he was startled to see her looking as dry-eyed and composed as always. She said, "Good morning, Roger." She started to step back from his embrace, but he clung tight.

Bewildered, wondering if this might be some kind of prank—her sister R. Dori was a mischievous scamp sometimes—he asked, "What just happened?"

"I was singing," she said.

Belatedly, he placed the song. It was the one she sang for her father, Timothy Wayneright, just moments before his death. He had been shot right in front of her.

R. Instro added in his mild voice, "I must apologize, Roger Smith. Dorothy asked me for singing lessons, and when I suggested we start with her favorite song ..."

Dorothy said quickly, "It's not your fault. I would have chosen that song no matter what you did."

Roger said, "I remember. I'm sorry, Dorothy."

Dorothy tightened her grip and put her cheek against his chest. He held her in silence.

R. Instro said mildly, "I think we will end our lesson here, Dorothy. I can find my way out."

Norman must have entered the room at some point. Ignoring R. Instro's last comment, he gestured to the spiral staircase and said, "This way, sir." He accompanied R. Instro to the floor below, where they would take the elevator to the first floor.

Once alone, Dorothy raised her face, and he kissed her. When he pulled back, her eyes were closed and she swayed slightly. He led her to the nearest couch and they sat. She made a half-hearted attempt to move away, but he pulled her close and put an arm around her. She relaxed into his embrace.

After a moment she said, "There's a side of me that no one has seen since Father died."

"Yes."

"It's been well over a year, now. That part of me—I used to call her 'the other Dorothy'—has been asleep."

Roger said, "Let me guess. One of your sisters wants to meet her, give her a hug, and tell her everything is going to turn out just fine."

Dorothy very nearly smiled. "Both of my sisters." Dorothy's sisters were her twin, R. Dori Wayneright, and her mysterious human sister, Dora.

"Perhaps you could tell me in advance the next time they convince you to play with fire or poke a hornet's nest."

"They always make it sound so reasonable."

"So they do," he agreed.

* * *

R. Alan Gabriel opened his eyes and giggled. What a dream _that_ had been!

He'd been human again, free from all restraint. Delicious! The part about taking Michael Seebach's precious Big Duo and attacking Big O until both Megadeuses were practically destroyed—what a wonderful piece of performance art! And programming that android girl … what was her name? … Programming R-D to hear crazed voices—Alan's voice, actually—demanding that she commit acts of artistic, murderous madness. A masterpiece!

It could have been better, though. Alex Rosewater? He shuddered. What _had_ he been thinking? Not his type at all! And darling Angel had treated him like a cockroach, and he had hardly done _anything_ to show her the error of her ways. Not to mention … R. Alan frowned. In his dream, he'd hated androids, while not being wholly human himself. There was something wrong there … and the way he planned to destroy R. Dorothy Wayneright. That was wrong, too. Too quick! Far too quick. And Roger Smith hadn't even been there to watch! Not at first. He was merely viewing the scene on a monitor. Slapdash. Half-hearted. Why, Roger was just the sort of person who'd say, "Take me instead!"

Alan laughed for a long time about that.

Well, no doubt there was work to be done. Alan sighed. It was good to get out and about, if only in a dream. His Dominus and his Megadeus were both such high-maintenance partners.

The thought of them snapped his attention into the present. Why was he in this android coffin? Had he been damaged? Was there a need for long-term storage? Suddenly worried, he pressed the button that opened the lid. Were his boys all right?

* * *

Ricky Fredericks parked his car a block from the diner. Persephone was sharp; if saw all the gear piled in the back, she might guess the whole plan. Mitch had made Ricky promise to keep their Megadeus prospecting a secret. Ricky stepped into night and a light drizzle.

The diner was almost empty. Persephone was reading a textbook next to the cash register. She looked up as the door opened and smiled. "Hi, Ricky."

"Hey, Persephone. How's things?"

"Quiet." He took a stool at the counter and she poured him a cup of coffee. They'd gone to high school together. Heck, they'd gone to kindergarten together. She was eighteen, with long, unruly red hair. She was one of the smart, shy ones, neither tall nor short. Easy to overlook—until you took a second look. For reasons he could no longer remember, he'd gone steady with someone else in high school, a bouncy blonde girl who suddenly married a guy he didn't like—to Ricky's secret relief. Persephone was far more to his taste. Heck, she's helped him build his car a couple of summers ago! It had been a wreck when they'd started.

She didn't offer him a menu and he didn't ask for one. "What's good tonight?"

"Don't try the special," she said at once. After a moment's consideration she shrugged. "The rest is the same old, same-old. Pick your poison."

"Cheeseburger and fries, chocolate malt, and a bowl of chili," he said at once. "I skipped lunch."

She called the order to the unseen cook, freshened up another customer's coffee cup and said a few words to him, and went back to her post behind the counter.

Ricky said, "I'm going to be gone for a while, maybe a couple of weeks."

"Oh?" He watched her curiosity struggle with her good manners. He added helpfully, "I can't tell you what the deal is. Business."

"You and Mitch?"

"Yeah."

"Is Clarisse going, too?"

"Naw, she had to stay behind. She just landed a job clerking at the bus terminal."

Persephone made a face. She didn't like dealing with mobs of people. That's why she liked waitressing on the night shift, when things were quiet and the customers were mostly regulars. Also, she secretly liked to think of herself as a creature of the night, though in fact the only ventures she had made along those lines were giving herself an ambiguously dark nickname and working the night shift. She said, "Well, Mitch won't keep you out too long if she stays behind."

"That's the truth. He's loopy about her."

His food arrived. When they spoke again, he kept the conversation turned towards her. She talked about her classes and roommates. She was studying commercial art, which let her take drafting classes, which were a step towards the career she really wanted: engineering. Her trustees couldn't imagine a girl engineer and had rejected the direct path out of hand. Her parents had been killed during one of the Megadeus incursions last year.

He counted out the amount of the check plus a 10% tip—she wouldn't let him tip her more than the standard amount—and tried to work up the courage to say, "Let's get together when I get back, okay?" She solved his problem, perhaps unwittingly, by walking around the counter and giving him a hug.

"You be careful," she said. "You and Mitch are always getting into trouble."

"I will," he said. He could have kissed her, but the door opened and another customer came in, ruining the mood. Well, he'd ask her out when he got back. It wasn't likely that someone else would scoop her up in the next couple of weeks.

He said goodbye and left.

* * *

R. Alan stepped out of his coffin. He was in perfect condition. He was even wearing a beautifully tailored pinstripe suit. His dream was fading, especially its more tactile elements—the cold steel arm, the non-removable mask, the inhuman, skeletal thinness, and all the rest. He wiggled his fingers. Nice, strong, warm, exquisitely sensitive android fingers, human to the eye but not quite to the touch. Wonderfully manicured. His steel arm and hand had been almost nerveless. Such a strange dream …

He longed for a mirror. R. Alan was confident he had his old looks back. Tall, slim, effeminate, his look drove quite a few of the ladies wild—and some of the more perceptive and delightful men as well. But no one was turned on by R. Alan Gabriel like R. Alan Gabriel.

"I wonder if I've kept my beautiful voice," he asked aloud. He had. High-pitched and sensual; just the way he liked it.

He looked down at he beautifully shined shoes and up at the corridor before him. It was dusty, with bits of rubble that had fallen from the ceiling above. The corridor was nearly circular in cross-section and quite dark. Alan extended his forehead slot to use the light within. The air was dead and still. The only sound was a soft diffuse rumble, barely distinguishable from total silence. He was far beneath Paradigm City.

He walked daintily down the corridor, unhappy about the dust. If he had a full wardrobe and access to a dry cleaner's, it would be different, but the thought of appearing in public with grubby clothes distressed him.

The corridor opened, as he had half-expected, onto a huge hemispherical chamber. His forehead light couldn't pierce its vastness, but it didn't have to. Lights appeared, high up, big square lights in an array two lights high and eight across. They danced in a complicated pattern.

Alan felt the compulsion. He had to approach the lights! He giggled. "I see you, darling. Don't worry, I'm coming." The lights were on the head of his Megadeus, forming an array that looked like teeth in a skull. He sprang forward eagerly.

By the time he reached the feet of the Megadeus, his joy had turned to a numb fear. His Megadeus—Big X, he remembered belatedly (damn his amnesia!) had turned on a few of the chamber's lights. Big X sagged from an enormous gantry as if crucified. Huge holes had been burned right through his torso. His left leg had been severed at the knee and lay next to him on the floor. The reactor was badly damaged; Big X could barely summon up enough energy for consciousness.

Alan ran to him, distressed. The hatchway in the right leg opened, but the elevator was broken. Alan swarmed up the emergency ladder to the command deck. He saw enough on his journey to sicken him. So much damage! It was a miracle Big X was alive.

He burst into the command deck. It was empty, clean, intact. A few feeble lights flickered on the control board.

The cockpit with its control seat was empty. Alan's Dominus belonged there: laughing, fearless, beautiful. Alan couldn't remember his face or his name.

An android cannot weep.

Alan screamed.

* * *

Tony worked at the drafting table in his new office in Hangar B. The office had been part of his promotion to Chief Engineer. It had plenty of room for two desks, a large drafting table, electromechanical calculators, flat files, and other tools of the trade. It even had a couch where he sometimes slept.

He'd been surprised, months back, when Beck started throwing more and more design work at him. Eventually Beck let slip that he'd found out about Tony's engineering degree and design experience. Tony had been semi-incognito for years, presenting himself "merely" as a master machinist. Too many engineers had been kidnapped by lunatics, and few were ever seen again. Some had been Tony's friends. But things were different now, weren't they?

As Tony stared at a sketch of a modified loading mechanism for Big B's cannon, wondering if it was really rugged enough for the pounding it would surely receive—he wasn't satisfied with the mathematical models for such things—a pair of small hands covered his eyes.

"Guess who," said a calm alto voice.

"Angel?"

"No."

"Dori?"

"Guess again."

"Mr. Beck?"

"You are such a louse, Tony Perez!" said Dora Wayneright without heat. She removed her hands.

"Am not," he said.

"Are, too!" They smiled at each other.

"What can I do for you, Dora?"

"You can buy me a banana split."

Tony looked at his drawing and back at Dora. It was probably time for a break, at that.

Dora was sixteen; petite—barely five feet tall—pale, with long, fine golden hair and violet eyes unlike any Tony had ever seen. Angel called her "a little squirt," which, if you knew Angel, told you how pretty she was. She was dressed simply, in blue jeans, a pale yellow blouse that matched her hair, and blue deck shoes. She wore no makeup or jewelry, not even a wristwatch.

Tony was twenty-four. He tried to be like a big brother to her. Everyone but Tony knew he had a crush on her.

He said, "All right."

She asked him to take her on small outings almost every day, though she had her own car. They were pals that way. She did the asking because Tony's boss, Jason Beck, the former Master Criminal and Dominus of the giant robot Big B, was her unofficial guardian. He got riled if Tony seemed to be making advances, but Dora had him wrapped around her little finger. If it was her idea, it must be okay.

The drain on Tony's pocketbook was neither here nor there because Beck insisted that Tony put his Dora-related outlays on his expense account, nominally so Beck could relieve Tony of the financial strain, but really so Beck could keep an eye on their activities. This irritated Tony, but since it was about twenty-seventh on his list of things Beck did that irritated him, he put up with it.

Dora was already heading for the door. She talked very little, like her sisters, R. Dorothy and R. Dori. Tony followed.

Dora was an anomaly, an impossibility. She had simply appeared one day in the company of her sister, R. Dori Wayneright.

Admittedly, that had been a very strange day! It had included the fight with Big Lazarus, who had nearly destroyed the world using reality technology, followed by Angel's use of Big Venus' own reality engine to reverse the effects. Reality technology always created anomalies—that was its purpose. But a violet-eyed girl wasn't the kind of anomaly that came to mind!

Dora's story was that she was the human Dori Wayneright. That is, that her sister R. Dori Wayneright _wasn't_ based on the long-dead human Dorothy's recorded memories after all. No, R. Dori was based on the memories of the human Dorothy's previously unknown little sister, Dori.

This was not only confusing, it was demonstrably untrue! Yet Dora was here just the same.

The concept that the human Dorothy had a little sister, way back when, was nothing but a romantic fantasy that R. Dori had invented for her own amusement. She somehow made her fantasy become real when Big Venus went into action.

Worse than her origin story, Dora insisted that, before stepping across the forty-one-year gap, she had been Jason Beck's lover. Or, rather, the lover of Beck in one of his previous incarnations. Tony had already conceded that there was a pattern of reincarnation in Paradigm, but still ...

But perhaps there had been a twenty-one-year-old Lieutenant Jason Beck forty-one years ago; then, as now, the Dominus of Big B. Perhaps there really had been intense sibling rivalry on both sides; Dori jealous of her big sister Dorothy, and Beck jealous of his adoptive big brother Roger. Perhaps Beck really had been unable to resist the underaged Dori's determined, ruthless, relentless seduction. Perhaps it really was true love.

Perhaps. One thing was certain: while Dora and R. Dori saw this backstory as swoon-worthy—the most romantic thing ever—it made everyone else cringe. Tony hated the idea, but not as much as Beck did!

Oh, Beck loved Dora. He was devoted to her. But he loved her like a daughter. This wasn't what Dora was used to; it wasn't what she wanted. But she had never complained. Not once. Sometimes, not often, she wept uncontrollably, though never when Beck might see. Tony had seen it, though, and it broke his heart.

What happened to the original Beck, the one from forty-odd years ago? Dead. Dead in the line of duty, just before the world changed and everyone lost their memories. What happened to the original human Dorothy? Dead. Dead of unknown causes a few months after the amnesia, just as the chaos was coming to an end. So sad; she was just eighteen.

What happened to the original human Dori? Here she was. She'd changed her name to Dora only to minimize confusion with her android sisters. Not that it worked; people confused them anyway.

It helped a little that R. Dorothy Wayneright always wore expensive black dresses, complementing Roger Smith's expensive black suits, but Dora and R. Dori dressed nearly alike. If you hadn't memorized that the long-haired one in the yellow blouse was the human Dora, while the short-haired one in the yellow blouse was R. Dori, maybe you'd remember that the girl with the violet eyes was the human sister.

Dora claimed that she had stepped into the future at Gordon Rosewater's request. But hadn't Gordon been dead for over a year before Dora's appearance? Perhaps.

There were many lines of questioning that Dora would not answer, or perhaps could not; it was hard to tell. Sometimes the questions made her weep. Tony didn't ask about her past anymore.

As usual they took Tony's car, a nearly new two-seater sports car with a racing cam and a supercharger. He'd had it repainted in dark blue. Very few street-legal cars could outrun him. Dora loved it when he drove fast, so he drove very fast to their favorite drug store. She'd received her license just recently and was still at the stage of "careful competence." She was going to take an advanced driving course so they could spend time at the racetrack together.

The drug store was old-fashioned, with a soda fountain behind a long counter. There were a few little tables, too. The soda jerk was a pal of theirs.

"Hey, Dora, Tony. What'll it be?"

"Hi, Kip. The usual, I guess," said Tony. Dora nodded.

"Banana split and a hot fudge sundae," said Kip. "Coming right up."

They sat at one of the little tables. Tony asked, "Did you sit in on the android strategy meeting?"

"Yes. No agreement."

"Good. Mr. Beck will tell them to go to hell and do it his way."

"Soon, I think."

Beck was ready to start making androids. The sticking point was whose personality to put into the androids. Normally, Class M androids were the third member of a Dominus/Megadeus team. The only such team that lacked an android was Angel and Big Venus. Last time, R. Dori had filled in temporarily, and this had worked; they had managed to avert a disaster even worse than that of forty-one years ago. But androids and their Dominuses were a team, very close, practically always lovers. R. Dori was already attached to Beck and Big B.

Tony knew that Dora was on fire to have a Megadeus and an android of her own, preferably an R. Jason Beck. She was convinced, on the basis of no evidence whatever, that she was a true Dominus, born to pilot a Megadeus of her own. No one took her seriously.

Tony had a similar problem. He had fallen in love at first sight with R. Dorothy Wayneright. He still fantasized that Roger Smith might leave her someday. He had shocked Dora to her marrow when he'd confided this to her. In Dora's mind, Roger and Dorothy were the world's only perfect couple. Their love had transcended death. Dora was in awe of them. Tony guessed that her own excesses, forty-one years ago (if real?) had been a desperate imitation of them.

Recently, Dora had told Tony more than once that he deserved his own Megadeus. It was the key to acquiring his R. Dorothy. Not the original R. Dorothy, but a new one, made from the original mind recording. She'd love him and he'd love her; everything would be perfect. Tony could have the second nice Megadeus they found.

Their ice cream arrived. Dora plunged into hers with gusto. Tony ate more slowly. After a while, she asked, "Have you thought about my plan?"

Tony looked uneasy. "I'm not going into the Wasteland alone with you."

"We can bring a chaperone. I'm almost sure Angel will come. She's bored."

"That's even worse!" He looked at her narrowly, wondering if she was teasing him again. He often had trouble reading her expression, which made her pranks doubly effective. Angel had nearly seduced him once. Did Dora know that?

Dora looked at him steadily. He guessed that she was surprised. He said, "I would be happy to accompany you if we bring a chaperone of good character."

She kept up her steady gaze. After an internal struggle, he added, "That includes Angel."

"Good." She resumed eating. After a while, she pushed her empty dish away and said, "Whoever uses Jason's new decoy androids first will scoop up all the Megadeuses that aren't too broken. If we want two good Megadeuses, we have to be first." Her plan involved using one of Beck's inventions—a crude robot that emitted the telltale radio signal of a Class M android. Megadeuses, especially damaged or insane Megadeuses, were drawn irresistibly to androids—as R. Dorothy had discovered more than once.

Dora was on fire to try her plan. It seemed foolproof to her. Tony marveled at how the danger seemed unimportant to her, almost nonexistent. Just traveling in the Wasteland was dangerous! Even if you didn't find a Megadeus, you found everything else.

His plan was to drag his feet in the hope that she would learn sense before they were ready to go. But if he delayed too much, she'd leave without him. She was as brave as a lion. When the time came, he knew he'd join her in any hare-brained adventure rather than leave her facing the danger alone. To Tony, this seemed weak, even cowardly. He didn't know that everyone else saw it as heroic.

* * *

R. Alan was reviewing recent events in Big X's life. This didn't take long. Nothing had happened for a very long time. Humans had intruded into his cavern only twice in the last forty-odd years, both quite recently. The most recent visit was from a pair of men whom R. Alan dismissed as completely uninteresting. Boorish, greedy, unattractive treasure hunters. Grave robbers. Ghouls. Given the chance, they might have broken Big X up for spare parts! R. Alan hated them. Since they hadn't returned, they were probably dead.

The earlier visit piqued his interest. "Play that again." Big X did so.

Two women, both blondes, paused in the doorway and then turned and fled. The larger one dragging the smaller one away with difficulty.

"Zoom in."

No doubt about it—the larger woman was his own darling Angel! And the other one … wasn't that R. Dorothy Wayneright? She was in jeans and she'd changed her hair color, but that was her, all right. She looked good as a blonde. R. Alan looked at another screen, which summarized Big X's instrument readouts. She was a Class M android, sure enough.

R. Alan replayed the tape several times. He was fascinated by the distress on darling Angel's face when she realized that Big X was calling to R. Dorothy. The sneaky kitty loved R. Dorothy; that much was clear.

So different from the events in his dream, when the sneaky kitty had fled when Roger Smith arrived to save his precious R. Dorothy Wayneright from Alan. Well, things were different now. Angel and R. Dorothy. Who would have guessed?

He started to daydream about a threesome—blondes should stick together, with glue, if necessary—but was diverted by a delicious thought. Was Roger Smith unattached?

R. Alan winced at the sudden protest from Big X. If Roger Smith didn't have an android, Big O might make a grab for R. Alan. And then R. Alan would belong to Roger Smith. Oh, what bliss! R. Alan giggled. Roger was so straight that he wouldn't know what was happening to him! But R. Alan would explain. Afterwards. He allowed himself to imagine the progression of emotions across Roger's face: Shock. Wonder. Delight.

Big X protested again. "It was just a daydream, darling," said R. Alan soothingly. "You know I'm a one-Megadeus android." And he was, too. There was only one Megadeus for him. It was with men and women, humans and androids, that he had neither constancy nor restraint.

* * *

Mitch unrolled the map on the hood of Ricky's car and pointed to where they were. "Right here. The middle of nowhere." They were in a patch of pine trees; there was nothing to see. They'd stopped here because there was a brook and they needed to top off their water jugs and the radiator, which mysteriously lost about a pint of water an hour while driving. Lacking a vista, they pored over the map.

They had marked it with the best information they could, with all the areas that they were confident were inhabited, or had been picked clean by other Megadeus hunters. Since they were coming late to the party, and were young and strong, they had agreed that they should look in spots that seemed likely, while at the same time being inaccessible or disagreeable enough to have warded off other hunters.

"I really like the looks of this marsh," Mitch said. "It blocks off some factories that are big enough to hide a Megadeus, but not enough of them that they'd be at the top of anyone else's list."

"Can we even get there?"

"See? You're discouraged already. That's just what we're looking for." Mitch slapped him on the back. "Let's go."

* * *

R. Alan was delighted with himself. He had found a wonderfully convenient exit from the Underground, carefully concealed, which opened into an alley. Now he needed to find out what was going on in the city, and find a good tailor and dry-cleaner. He had done all his exploration in the nude so far to spare his only suit. He'd first need money for his wardrobe, and then it would be time to get on with business: machine shops, foundries, electricians, armorers … the list was endless. He would need to acquire a fortune. Well, first things first.

He went home, dressed carefully, then stepped daintily through the corridors to the alley. It was night. The domes glowed, just as they had in his dream. The dream had been partly true, then.

He watched the crowd for a while. His suit was atypical, but not hopelessly out of fashion. Good.

Where was he going to get money? He couldn't mug people; his android conditioning made violence difficult. Well, there was always picking pockets. He made a face; lifting wallets was beneath him.

Five minutes and six wallets later, he was striding down the street with a comfortable bankroll. He passed a diner, almost empty at this time of night, where the sole occupant was a young waitress with long, unruly red hair, reading a textbook. She look up and saw him through the plate-glass window, and her jaw dropped. Alan smiled at her and she sagged a little, smitten, then straightened up and blushed. He had that effect on some women. He noticed that there was a color television in the corner of the diner, on but unregarded. Maybe he could hear a news broadcast, too. He turned around and went into the diner.

"Hello," said the girl, still flustered.

"Hello, darling, what's your name?" asked Alan.

"Persephone," said Persephone.

Alan tried to remember. "I think I know this story," he said. "You're out gathering flowers in the sunshine—how dull—and then a mysterious, handsome young god appears, deflowers you, and takes you off to his underground kingdom, is that right?"

She blushed again. "Something like that."

"What fun! And the story always makes it sound like she didn't want to go, but we know better, don't we, dear?"

Embarrassed, she asked, "Are you ready to order?" But he could tell that his flirting was turning her on.

"I want your flowers!"

She stared, open-mouthed. Oh, she was ripe for plucking, all right.

He leaned close and murmured confidentially, "You see, Persephone, I happen to be a mysterious, handsome young god myself. It's true! And I do indeed have an underground kingdom. All that is left is for me to take you away and make you my queen. When does your shift end?"

She was used to that question, and answered automatically, "Never."

He laughed gaily. "Then I'll have a cup of coffee. Black, like my kingdom and my heart."

She poured him a cup and said, "Be careful, it's very hot."

He tossed off the cup at a gulp. "Delicious!"

She goggled.

Just then, a news broadcast came on, and she backed away, muttering something about wanting to hear it. Alan turned to the television, which started off with a story about organized crime. General Dastun made a statement that amounted to, "We're working hard, but don't hold your breath." Behind him, in a neat skirt suit, was darling Angel! What was the sneaky kitty doing with the military police? Nothing honest, he was sure. She was certainly a busy girl these days.

The next piece was alarming. It was talking about the Megadeus-hunting craze, and the large number of people who had gone missing after going off to search for forgotten Megadeuses. Alan didn't like it. It would greatly increase the risk of Big X being discovered or even hijacked. The report cut to footage of Beck, walking from a nondescript building to a nondescript car. At his side was the blonde R. Dorothy Wayneright, her casual clothes contrasting with Beck's custom-tailored suit, though she wore matching colors: where Beck wore a yellow suit, a black shirt, and beautifully shined black shoes, she wore a yellow blouse, black jeans, and black canvas sneakers.

What was Dorothy doing with Beck? Were she and Beck and Angel a threesome? The voiceover criticized Beck for offering large cash rewards for information about Megadeus finds, partly because this encouraged the hunters, and partly because he refused to name his sources or share information with the city. Was Beck encouraging the hunters because he needed a Megadeus? Could it be that _Beck_ was Alan's Dominus?

"Beck's a dreamboat, isn't he?" breathed Persephone.

"Oh, he is!" agreed Alan honestly. Beck was very sexy. He was also deliciously cunning and probably fun-loving, too. Alan would definitely have to learn what was going on.

Persephone looked at him, startled, but continued, "And isn't Dori the cutest thing ever? It's nice to see a woman wearing jeans."

Persephone herself was wearing a waitress' dress. Alan asked, "You like jeans?"

"Sure! And slacks. A lot of people say women don't look good in them."

"Oh, they look better out of them," laughed Alan, "But there's nothing like a well-filled pair of pants, I always say." He stood up. "I must go now, my queen. But never fear, I'll be back, and we'll fulfill our destiny." He blew her a kiss and departed, not paying for his coffee.

As he walked down the sidewalk, looking for a likely tailor shop, he wondered at his attraction to Persephone. Was it her name (or rather, as he suspected, nickname)? Partly. She seemed personable enough. And he was sure she was a virgin. He giggled in anticipation. As an android, he had so few opportunities to enjoy the pain and blood of others.

He sang a merry little tune.

* * *

Mitch and Ricky swore. The car was hopelessly bogged down. Ricky said, "We can winch it out with the come-along."

"Where is it?"

"In the trunk, underneath everything else."

"Let's lock up and walk ahead for a while. If we leave it while it's bogged down in the sand like this, it'll be harder to steal."

"Okay."

Their target area looked promising. This was the best track leading into it, and it was long disused and almost impassable. Clearly, no legions of Megadeus hunters had beaten them to the area. They selected some gear and started walking.

The loose sand turned into a stretch of fresh-water marsh. For some reason—toxins in the water, perhaps—the marsh was almost devoid of plant life. It was no more than knee-deep in most places. Too shallow for boats, too deep for cars. Their targets—the big abandoned factories and warehouses, became visible in the distance.

"We ought to be able to use a punt or a rubber raft," said Mitch, "if we load it lightly enough that we can portage it over sand bars. That way, we can get enough gear across that we don't have to cross every day or two."

They discussed it, arguing the merits of an outboard motor—its extra weight, the weight of the fuel they would have to haul, and the noise that might attract other people—versus oars, paddles, and poles. They had to be careful where they stepped, because twisted pieces of metal stuck up through the sand here and there. They decided that an inflatable raft was out of the question.

Finally, they reached the opposite shore. They threw themselves down on the sand to rest. After a while, they got up and started poking around.

* * *

During the long underground walk, Persephone told herself she was an idiot, but she didn't listen. Alan had appeared a couple of nights after their first meeting, announced he was going to make her his queen, and kissed her. There was something odd about his body, his touch. When she asked, he laughed and said it was because he was a god. She had almost fainted. A little later, he admitted that he was an android, but it was the same thing. By then, her heart was beating almost painfully, her mouth was dry, and she couldn't have put two sensible words together if her life depended on it.

At the entrance to the Underground, he extended a tray in his forehead, which gave them enough light to proceed. A few minutes later, after she was thoroughly lost, he suddenly closed the tray, leaving them in total darkness.

"Alan!" she wailed, reaching out blindly for him. He wasn't there. The walls seemed to press in on her.

His hands fell lightly in her shoulders. She turned, and he took her trembling body in his arms. She was faint with relief and fear. He kissed her until she was shaking, gasping, desperate for more. He took her by the hand, giggling, and led her in total darkness deeper into the Underground.

Eventually, she could tell by the changes in the echoes that they had entered an immense chamber. After leading her on for a few dozen paces, he vanished.

"Alan!" she shouted. Harsh echoes were her only answer.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a switch being thrown, and a few faint lamps came on, far overhead. She looked up, and saw that she was standing almost at the feet of an immense Megadeus, sagging as if crucified from a gantry, its head lolling. It had suffered horrendous damage, but still looked immensely powerful. Persephone had a sense of being insignificant, an ant under this creature's heel. She fell to the floor in a faint.

She awoke to find herself lying on her back in the dust and gloom. When she opened her eyes, they met those of the Megadeus. Alan must have moved her, because, from where she was now lying, the Megadeus seemed to be not so much standing, but crouching over her, looking directly at her, as if he planned to leap down upon her. Unless she was imagining it, she could feel the Megadeus' mind; powerful, arrogant, sensual. Like Alan, yet unlike him. There was madness there, too. Frustration at his helplessness. A yearning for completeness—and for his lost Dominus. But mostly, the Megadeus was considering Persephone. Would she take good care of his Alan?

 _I will,_ she promised.

Alan walked into her line of vision, light on his feet, almost dancing. His nude body was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. _He really is a god,_ she thought. She glanced back to the looming Megadeus. _They both are._

Alan turned and raised his hands in supplication to the Megadeus. For once, he was not smiling. He looked for all the world as if he were offering a sacrifice to a dark god.

He turned to Persephone and smiled down at her. She heard herself asking, inanely, "Will it hurt?"

He giggled, producing ghastly echoes off the distant walls. "Oh, it will!" he said. "I promise!"

* * *

"No, darn it," said Angel. "Put all your cards on the table first, so I know what I'm rejecting." She'd dropped by to say hi to Tony, who was helping her with some spy equipment, and had been drawn into an argument with Dora.

Dora glared at her, violet eyes gleaming. Angel glared back. Tony, on the sidelines for once, felt simultaneously blessed and cursed. The two most attractive women in the world were both in his office! Too bad they'd probably turn on him in a minute.

Without taking her eyes off Angel, Dora said, "Tell her, Tony."

"I think you'll like this plan, Angel," he said, surprising himself. But come to think of it, it was true! It was Tony who didn't like the plan. "The new decoys are really convincing, and their transmitters can be set for extra range, to cover the three D's; distance, depth, and damage. We'll make a clean sweep of every Megadeus that can still move under its own power."

Angel stabbed an index finger at him, "And they'll pounce on you and squash you like a bug."

"No, we'll be far, far away. And we made the signal directional so we can sweep an area slowly and not wake them all up at once. Mr. Beck told us what happened when Big Kappa and Big Octus came after Dori at the same time. My other innovation is that the decoys can decode the signals used to decide if a Megadeus is sane or crazy, friend or foe."

Angel looked impressed. "Your innovation?"

"Yes. I can show you the blueprints. I just completed the prototype. We need to field-test it, of course."

Dora added, "Two birds with one stone."

Angel, reluctantly interested, asked, "What does Beck think about your plan?"

Tony looked at Dora, who said with a straight face, "We'll know after you pitch it to him."

Angel dug in her purse and took out a cigarette. "Mind if I smoke?"

Tony said, perhaps a trifle smugly, "Go right ahead." He gestured to the new ashtray.

The mechanics, machinists, welders, electricians, and draftsmen who worked on Big B were practically all smokers. Tony hated tobacco smoke, but he was an engineer, wasn't he? Problems were there to be solved. He'd designed an excellent and almost silent ventilation system for his office. He was pleased with the results and only a little bit guilty that he'd spent Beck's money as freely as R. Dori encouraged him to.

Angel lit one of her long cigarettes. She took a meditative puff and then let the smoke out slowly. She often stared at the rising smoke as she thought. In Tony's office, though, the smoke vanished as if by magic. She narrowed her eyes at the smoke that wasn't there. "Why me? Dora's better at wheedling stuff out of Beck than I ever was."

"He trusts your judgment," said Dora.

"Huh. Tony, that may be the nicest thing the little squirt ever said to me."

"What about the time..." started Dora, a mischievous gleam in her eye.

Tony interrupted hastily, "You told me yourself, Angel, that we need to find the friendly Megadeuses as quickly as possible."

Discontentedly, Angel said, "I'm glad somebody listened, Tony. We won the last couple of rounds, sure, but there are a lot more hostile Megadeuses than friendly ones. If we let them wake up on their own schedule, we're in deep trouble."

She smoked quietly for a moment, then said peevishly, "For god's sake, Tony, can't you turn off your ventilator? I can't think in here."

Tony flipped a switch. Soon Angel was leaning back on the couch, watching her cigarette smoke rise towards the ceiling. When she finished her cigarette, she dropped the lipstick-stained butt in the ashtray and stood up. "Okay, Tony, I'll pitch it to Beck."

Dora flung her arms around Angel. Angel laughed, hugged her back, and said, "I love you too, Squirt. And have I mentioned how much I appreciate that you weigh two hundred pounds less than your sister? She leaves bruises!"

* * *

Ricky shipped the oars as the rowboat reached the shore. He got out and dragged the little boat partway onto the sand. They had been exploring for two weeks now. It was slow going; far slower than they had expected. The terrain was treacherous with glass and metal, briars and brambles, and many of the silent factories were surrounded by brambles as well, meaning that they had to hack their way in with machetes before they could check a place out. It was maddening. They had hoped to be done by now, but three-quarters of the buildings remained to be checked. Mitch missed his girlfriend, Clarisse, and both were suffering from their own bad cooking. You can only have pancakes for so many meals in a row.

Ricky hadn't mentioned it, but ever since they'd moved to this spot, he'd been having strange dreams. In them, he was at the controls of his Megadeus, fighting. The battles weren't always the same. Sometimes it was a one-on-one fight with another Megadeus, sometimes it was with some kind of monster, sometimes it was a melee with huge numbers of Megadeuses. Sometimes he was victorious; other times, he died.

And there was an underlying sense of urgency. _Hurry up, hurry up, keep at it, don't give up._ It was making him frantic. And another message, _be careful; choose wisely._

Mitch was on the point of rebellion, so tomorrow was their last day before taking a break in town. They'd be back. They were close. Ricky was sure of it.

* * *

Persephone walked into the apartment and set down her grocery bags and flashlight. They were going to have to do something about that. Carrying grocery bags all this way was hard enough, but a flashlight, too? And they'd soon need to move in heavy equipment for Big X.

She was proud of her contribution over the past few weeks. She had moved in with Alan here, converting one of the blind tunnels into a cozy apartment. They had tapped power lines and water mains. She had helped him catalog Big X's damage and run systems checks. She had surprised herself with her knack for the work. She'd made innumerable phone calls and visits to various suppliers around the city to discover who had the facilities to repair Big X. She had even helped Alan rob a bank, using a stolen laser cannon to cut a hole in the wall of the building and then another in the vault. The alarms hadn't sounded because they hadn't opened any windows or doors. They'd taken half a million dollars.

Alan seemed pleased with her. She worried about him. She had eventually admitted to herself that Alan wasn't entirely sane. He had brief fits of depression, especially after communing with Big X. These terrified her. His periods of elation, much more common, were almost as bad. But they were working towards an important goal. His Megadeus was everything to him. But she felt there was enough room in his heart for her as well, especially now that she'd learned more about sex than she really wanted to know.

She decided to say hello to Alan before putting the groceries away. He wouldn't help, of course, but a kiss was better than being totally ignored. And the sight of Alan always cheered her up. His off-the-charts sexiness let her shrug off a lot of bad behavior.

She smiled as she walked into the living room. Alan was on the couch, his back to her. His attention was fully occupied in kissing the blonde girl on his lap.

Persephone must have uttered a cry, because the blonde girl leapt to her feet and stood staring, wide-eyed. She was astonishingly pretty, pale, with long golden hair and extraordinary violet eyes. A few freckles across her nose added rather than detracted from the effect. You couldn't see her without wanting to hug her. She couldn't be older than sixteen. _How can I size her up so calmly?_ Persephone asked herself. _I must be in shock._

The girl glanced at Alan and then back to Persephone, blushed, burst into tears, and fled from the room.

Persephone turned to Alan, who grinned at her as if sharing a joke. Suddenly she was furious with him, ashamed of herself, and, to her surprise, concerned for the blonde girl, who was clearly in over her head. Gritting her teeth, she turned her back on Alan and went to find her.

She was just outside the doorway of the apartment, standing between the darkness and the light, sobbing, her thin shoulders shaking. Persephone picked the flashlight off the table and approached the girl, pulling out her handkerchief. "Here."

The girl nodded, still sobbing, and took it. She tried to master herself and succeeded after a couple of tries. She was one of those girls whom tears make adorable.

"I'm sorry," said the girl. "I didn't know."

"I could tell," said Persephone, barely resisting the urge to hug her. "Come on. I'll walk you to the surface." Suddenly angry, she added, "And we can talk about what a rat Alan is."

"Okay," said the girl. She held out her right hand. "I'm Dora Wayneright."

Persephone was too upset to take note of the name. They shook hands. "Call me Persephone."

Dora knew the story. "Appropriate setting," she said. After a moment she added, "Appropriate boyfriend, too." She smiled suddenly and looked away.

Persephone glared. "Yes, he did, if you _must_ know."

"I didn't mean to pry."

"I need a new nickname," said Persephone darkly. "I'm getting tired of that joke."

* * *

"Look!" said Mitch. "Over there! Do you see it?"

Ricky peered. "Wait … well, maybe."

"It's standing straight up, arms at its sides. There's a pillar behind it, a whatchamacallit—gantry. It's hard to make out in the gloom."

Ricky peered. It looked like Mitch was right. He looked up at what seemed to be the Megadeus' face. Suddenly, he realized he was walking towards it.

"What are you doing?" said Mitch. "We agreed, no getting close!"

"I can't even see it properly!" said Ricky, though he was just making up an excuse for what he was already doing.

Mitch grabbed him. "Hey, none of that. It's almost dark, anyway. Let's get back to camp. In the morning, there'll be plenty of light. You'll be able to see it, and we can take some pictures."

Ricky rubbed his face with one hand, and then said, "Yeah." He allowed himself to be led away. Mitch kept a hand on his elbow for some time. Ricky didn't really blame him.

Back in his tent, he tossed and turned. He must have fallen asleep, because he had nightmares.

* * *

"Here you are," said Persephone, opening the door into the alley. It was night already.

Dora stepped through. "What about you?" she asked.

Persephone hesitated. She didn't want to go back to Alan. He'd offer a lame excuse and take her to bed, and she didn't want either one. Not while she was still so upset with him. But she'd moved out of her apartment and wasn't carrying enough money for a hotel room. She was also fascinated by Dora, who had become unnaturally composed and silent as soon as her tears had stopped.

"Stay with me," Dora offered.

"Would it be all right?" asked Persephone, startled. "I thought you'd hate me."

Dora hugged her briefly. "It's not your fault," she said.

The gesture moved Persephone almost to tears. Well, more than almost. She reached for her handkerchief, but it wasn't there. Dora handed it back to her gravely.

After a moment, Persephone said, "Okay."

Dora took her to a parked car and opened the driver's-side door. Persephone stared at her.

Dora stamped a foot. "I'm sixteen, all right? I have a driver's license!"

This human flash of temper cheered Persephone. "Sorry," she said. She got in on the passenger side.

Dora drove in silence. They left the city and traveled through a derelict section of factories and warehouses; some brick, some metal. Finally, she pulled into a large compound featuring a tall metal factory building surrounded by a chain-link fence topped with razor wire. She stopped at the gate house and rolled down her window.

A middle-aged security guard handed her a clipboard. "Hi, Dora."

"Hello, Ted." She signed in and handed the clipboard back to him, then drove in, parking in a space marked, "Dora Wayneright." The parking space next to it was labeled, simply, "Beck." She realized suddenly that this was Hangar B.

"Wayneright!" said Persephone. "But I don't understand. You're not an android."

"I'm human. Dori and Dorothy are the androids. I'm their little sister." She opened her door.

"How can you have android sisters?" said Persephone, bewildered.

"It's a long story." Dora signed in with the guard at the door and ushered Persephone in. It slowly dawned on Persephone that she could learn a lot about androids from Dora. Alan bewildered her in so many ways.

Without another word, she led Persephone into a lavish apartment attached to Hangar B, down a hall, and into a large but sparsely furnished bedroom. Given the size of the room, it should have had a bed that was king-sized or even larger, but instead it had bunk beds.

"Take your pick; upper or lower," said Dora.

"Are you mad at me?" asked Persephone.

"No." Dora turned and gave Persephone a long stare, making her blush.

"You've hardly said a word."

"I don't talk much. Family trait." Dora broke off her stare abruptly, stepped forward, and hugged Persephone. She hugged like a little child, radiating trust and affection. Once again, her innocence and kindness made Persephone's eyes fill with tears. Dora murmured, "Everything will be all right, Persephone. You'll see." Persephone almost believed her.

Eventually, Dora let go. "Hungry?"

"I guess." They went into the surprisingly lavish kitchen—all the equipment was restaurant-quality—and together they cooked up a meal. Dora ate like a horse; Persephone had little appetite.

Out of the blue, Persephone asked her, "How did you meet Alan?"

"At the soda counter of the drug store. He said he had a feeling that I was right for him; that I was his Dominus."

Persephone chuckled. "I've never heard that pick-up line before."

"He knew what I wanted. An android and a Megadeus."

"Isn't that a little ambitious?"

"My sisters both have Megadeuses; why not me?"

"Oh."

They lapsed into silence. Eventually, Persephone said, "I don't suppose physical attraction had anything to do with it."

"R. Alan Gabriel is the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen."

They both sighed.

Persephone said, "You seem to have soured on him awfully quickly."

"A Dominus has to be able to trust her android. Trust him completely. They'll tear each other apart otherwise." She sighed again. "I can't be Alan's Dominus. I don't know if I can even be his friend." After a while she added, "I'd like to help poor mad Big X."

To change the subject, Persephone glanced down the hall and asked, "Why bunk beds?"

Dora flashed one of her brief smiles. It was a gentle smile, hardly there at all, and it soon vanished, but somehow that gave it more impact. "It's an old trick of Jason's. If you want to talk but nothing more, you hide the ladder in the closet and take the top bunk. If you want something more, you take the bottom bunk and add a second pillow." After a pause, she added bitterly, "It's all academic in my case."

Soon Beck, R. Dori, and Tony, their chief engineer, walked into the apartment. Beck and Tony were deep in a technical discussion, but cut it off abruptly when R. Dori said, "We have a guest."

Dora silently hugged each of the newcomers in turn, taking her time, smiling gently. Beck and Tony beamed at her. R. Dori returned a smile exactly like Dora's. Finally, Dora said, "I'd like you to meet my friend Persephone. She's staying the night. Persephone, this is my sister, R. Dori Wayneright; her boyfriend, Jason Beck, and my friend Tony Perez."

Beck said, "Hiya, Persephone. Any friend of Dora's is a friend of mine. My house is your house." Then he rather spoiled the effect by turning instantly to Tony and restarting the technical wrangle, not giving Persephone a chance to thank him and stepping on Tony's line.

Tony patiently started over, "I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Persephone." He would have liked to go on, but Beck's fidgeting distracted him.

R. Dori walked up to Persephone and hugged her exactly as Dora had done. The resemblance between the two sisters was uncanny. Not only the physical resemblance—though R. Dori was taller and more developed, Persephone has never seen two people who were more obviously sisters—but their mannerisms were identical. The main difference was that R. Dori projected an air of serenity, while Dora had a faint aura of someone who was trying to push past her limits through an effort of will. But both girls were alert, intelligent, confident, and kind. It was easy to forget that one was human and the other an android.

The two men left for Tony's office so they could continue their discussion with the aid of blueprints and slide rules.

R. Dori asked after their needs and found pajamas and toiletries for Persephone. "If you need anything else, or need money to tide you over, just ask Dora or me," she said. She invited the girls into the book-lined living room, which held the largest color television and the fanciest hi-fi set that Persephone had ever seen. R. Dori sat down in one of the chairs with a book, and Dora handed a paperback to Persephone, saying "You might like this one," before curling up on a couch with a book of her own.

With nothing better to do, Persephone opened the book. It had been read many times and was beginning to fall apart. She began without enthusiasm but was soon enthralled by the convoluted spy story featuring a military policemen, honest and true but none too quick on the uptake, and his opponent, a _femme fatale_ who, sadly for her, had a heart of gold. She was thirty pages into it when she told Dora, "This is a wonderful book."

Hearing no response, she glanced up. Dora was fast asleep. R. Dori was tucking a blanket around her.

R. Dori said, "I always cry when I read it."

"Androids can't cry."

"It doesn't show on the outside." She gently removed Dora's shoes and said, "Being grown up means so much to her, but her body lets her down. She still needs ten hours of sleep a night." She looked at Persephone with that clear Wayneright gaze. "How long have you known her?"

"Since late this afternoon."

R. Dori nodded, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. "Be careful, Persephone. My sister is ambitious."

"I know."

"I mean, she might get you killed. She denies her limitations."

"Can't you stop her?"

"I don't think so."

Later, when Persephone started yawning, they woke Dora and helped her stumble off to bed. R. Dori helped her sister get undressed—Dora was very groggy—while Persephone went to the bathroom to brush her teeth and change into her borrowed pajamas. When she returned, Dora was in the bottom bunk. There wasn't a second pillow, though.

As Persephone climbed the ladder to the upper bunk, Dora called out in a sleepy voice, "Persephone?"

"Yes?"

"Do you want me to help Alan?"

"Could you?"

"I have access to all sorts of facilities and money. I know all about Megadeuses."

 _He doesn't love her; he was just using her. But he'd still sleep with her the first chance he got_. "I want Big X to be repaired."

"I don't know what to do," said Dora sleepily. "My other love triangle is simpler."

Other love triangle? Persephone made a mental note to follow up on this later. She said, "Your sister seems very wise."

"Mmmm," said Dora. "Well ask her advice tomorrow."

* * *

Ricky pulled up in front of Mitch's apartment. He left the engine running.

"Aren't you coming in?" asked Mitch.

"Three's a crowd. Say hi to Clarisse for me."

Mitch grinned. "I'll call her up, take her to a late supper, and then I'll pop the question."

"Shouldn't you wait until we've got this business squared away?"

"Naw. I've decided. We should be together even if we're as poor as church mice. If we get rich, so much the better. Either way, she's the girl for me."

Ricky picked up the camera bag and handed it to him. "Family man, eh? That makes you the responsible one. You hang onto the evidence."

"Thanks, I will."

"I'll call you in the morning."

"Not too early, okay? What are you going to do?"

"Dunno. Dinner and bed, I guess. I haven't been sleeping too well."

"I noticed. Well, good night."

"Night."

Ricky drove off. It was after ten, so Persephone would be on shift. It would be good to talk to her. It would get his mind off Megadeuses. Cheeseburger, fries, large chili, chocolate malt, and conversation with a pretty redhead. What could be better?

But a stranger was working in the diner, and Persephone had quit a couple of weeks before. It didn't take Ricky's appetite away—he had been half-starved for a long time—but he was disappointed. Oh, well. He'd go see her. He knew where she lived. Sort of late to do it tonight, though.

He reviewed his options. His mind kept coming back to a particularly bad one. If he got in his car, he'd be back at the Megadeus before dawn.

Knowing it was a terrible idea, he got in his car and headed out of town.

* * *

Persephone spend the next day hanging out with Dora, helping her with her work in Hangar B. Dora spent most of her time assisting Tony, almost to the point of being his alter ego. People would come in with a question for Tony, but if he was busy they'd ask Dora instead. Dora and Tony were impressed by Persephone's helpfulness and quick comprehension. Though not technically trained, she seemed to have a gift for the work, and wasn't afraid of getting her hands dirty.

For her part, Persephone was impressed by both Tony and Dora. They were great pals and worked well together. They looked out for each other. This harmony was punctuated at odd intervals by Dora's mischievous sense of humor. Persephone liked both of them more and more.

When the day shift ended and Tony had gone home, the girls sought out R. Dori and told her all about what happened. She listened without criticism and almost without comment. She told the girls that she'd need to talk to Alan before she could give them any advice. This resulted in a spirited discussion about what a weasel Alan was, and how you couldn't trust anything he said.

In the end, they all agreed that they'd ask Alan to submit to questioning under Big B's probe cables, so he couldn't lie or conceal anything. Then they could decide whether he was someone Dora could help or trust.

The two girls left in Dora's car to fetch Alan. He offered no resistance to their idea and made only a token effort at seducing them. He was intrigued at the thought of winning the support of Hangar B, and asked a number of questions about R. Dori.

Persephone would have felt good about this if he hadn't laughed quite so much.

* * *

Dora stopped at the gate and signed in with the guard. Then she drove to her reserved parking space, waved at the guard on the main entrance, and walked into Hangar B. It was 9 PM. The place was deserted. Persephone and Alan followed.

"Dori!" called Dora. R. Dori appeared a moment later, wearing her usual black jeans and yellow blouse.

"R. Dori Wayneright, this is R. Alan Gabriel," said Dora, then stopped. R. Dori and Alan were looking each other up and down. R. Dori wore a goofy half-smile that Dora had never seen before. Alan wore a knowing grin that made Dora shiver, though it wasn't meant for her. Dora felt like an idiot. _She's just as attracted to Alan as I am,_ _because she's me._ This was followed by a sharp pang of jealousy and the beginnings of fear. _What have I done?_

R. Dori held out her hand. R. Alan took it, raised it to his lips, and kissed it. Then he turned it over, palm up, and gave it a long, lingering lick. "Pleased to meet you," he said, and laughed.

R. Dori did not snatch her hand back, did not stop smiling.

Dora burst out, "I _know_ he's sexy! I don't need a second opinion on that!"

Alan laughed. "Don't worry, little kitten. You can all share."

R. Dori looked steadily at Dora, who eventually muttered, "Just use Big B's probe cables, okay? To make sure he's not conning us."

R. Dori turned her stare on Alan, but her smile returned as she did so. "Good idea."

* * *

Alan grinned as the elevator took him and the three girls up to Big B's command deck. He laughed out loud as the door opened and he entered the sacred center of Big B's consciousness. He could feel Big B's mind. Like most of them, Big B was a masculine Megadeus, but he was unusually clever and proud of his cleverness. Big B was a rule-breaker. It would take a strong-minded Dominus to keep him in line. He and Beck were made for each other; there was no doubt about it. Was baby-doll R. Dori a match for them? Probably she was, under normal circumstances. They were goofy about her. He could read this from Big B. She had a powerful will, too. Alan felt a thrill at the thought of breaking it.

Big B had a strong sex drive. A lot of Megadeuses did. It was channeled into combat, for the most part, but the command deck could also be the scene of sex between Dominus and android, with the Megadeus forming a channel through which they could hear each other's thoughts—or feel each other's lust, more like. It helped bond android to Dominus, and helped keep them human and sane in spite of the great power they controlled. Of course, the channeling made the Megadeus more of a participant than a spectator. Alan stifled a giggle. This setup was too good to be true!

His thoughts were interrupted by R. Dori. She had lost her smile; she looked grave. "Big B," she said. "I want to interrogate R. Alan. Can you help me? We can share probe cables."

Big B thought about this for a moment. Actually, working with two androids was something he knew about. Long disused memories reminded him of training procedures that used this very technique with an experienced and an untrained android. The same features would work for interrogation.

Alan sent a silent, private thought to Big B. _If you want to see just how hot sex can be, big boy, relay our arousal to each other, like you always do. Not only that, amplify my arousal and send it back to me, and amplify hers and send it back to her. Positive feedback. It'll be such fun!_

Big B was skeptical. Technically, it would work, and he was all for it, but would R. Dori like it? He wouldn't like to upset R. Dori.

 _Look into her mind. She wants me._

Big B agreed that this was true.

 _Let's surprise her!_

R. Dori, still serious, unaware of their intentions, asked, "Ready, Big B? Ready, Alan?"

Alan giggled. "Ready, baby doll." He opened the slot in his forehead to receive the probe cables. R. Dori did the same.

The eight probe cables lifted themselves like snakes. Four headed for Alan, four for R. Dori. Alan could feel Big B's excitement. He was like a little boy who had discovered a peephole into the girls' locker room.

Alan looked into R. Dori's eyes and smiled. Almost against her will, she smiled back. Then the probe cables shot home. R. Dori's eyes widened. Suddenly, they were kissing. Discarded clothing filled the air.

* * *

Dora goggled at the two figures. Alan was even more beautiful than she'd imagined, and seeing him with her alter ego … Even so, it shouldn't be _that_ much of a turn-on! She felt dizzy.

Big B! He was relaying the androids' emotions! Dora's mind and body were being overwhelmed by second-hand lust!

Persephone was staring, open-mouthed. Snarling, Dora pulled her into the elevator, hoping to escape the telepathic waves of arousal. There was no diminution, even after the doors closed. With a shaking hand, she hit the 'DOWN' button. Damn Alan Gabriel! She couldn't get the scene in the command deck out of her mind. She wanted to… she wanted to…

As the elevator began to move, Dora suddenly felt unable to breathe. She panicked until she realized that the problem would go away if she took her tongue out of Persephone's mouth. She backed off, but Persephone pressed forward, hugging Dora hard and kissing her hungrily.

The elevator door opened and Dora managed to stagger backwards to the exit hatch. After a moment's confusion, she pulled an errant hand from under Persephone's clothing and pressed the 'OPEN' button. Disengaging with an effort, she fled across the hangar floor. Persephone followed.

Dora's arousal fell suddenly when the hatch closed behind her, but it was still stronger than anything she had ever felt. Putting distance between her and Big B didn't seem to help. Big B was supposed to be fully shielded with his hatches shut! Maybe what remained actually belonged to her, sort of? She stopped near the edge of the hangar, panting, trying to think. Persephone flung her arms around her a moment later. She backed Dora against the wall and kissed her passionately.

"Stop that!" said Dora. Persephone backed off as if struck, blinking back tears.

"Don't you want to?" she asked plaintively.

Dora had no answer.

"Come on, Dora," begged Persephone. "If we don't do it now, I'll never have the nerve to try!" She added viciously, "And I want to get back at Alan." She grabbed Dora again.

Dora resisted feebly, trying to think. She knew that Alan was dangerous. "I need to keep a clear head. Anything might happen." Damn her sister, anyway! R. Dori was older. She was supposed to be responsible. Why did Dora have to be the grown-up?

She jumped. "Don't do that!"

"You started it," said Persephone indistinctly, her mouth full of earlobe.

Dora glanced down at her hands. "Oh."

* * *

R. Dori smiled at Alan. She reached out, tousled his hair above the probe cables, and kissed him on the cheek. _I must have been a good little girl for too long,_ she thought. _I shouldn't have enjoyed it this much; I shouldn't have_ needed _it this much._

 _Everyone needs to be bad once in a while,_ replied Alan silently, smirking.

He saw R. Dori glance up, and his link with her mind was severed. She stood. My, but she was magnificent! Her poise was marvelous, and she was wonderfully focused on whatever she was doing. But the warmth had drained out of her. She looked back down at him, and she was like a marble statue.

"It's question time," she said.

"You don't need to, baby doll," said Alan, giggling. "You know all about me already. Or if you want to know more, you can find it out the same way."

This received no response at all, so he got to his feet and reached for her. Or, rather, he tried to. His body suddenly went rigid. Big B was controlling him!

"Sit down, Alan," said R. Dori.

He refused, struggling against the compulsion in sudden panic. She couldn't do this to him! She couldn't _want_ to do this to him! Once he seduced them, they _stayed_ seduced!

His struggles managed to overcome Big B's control only enough that he toppled onto his back. From the floor, he could see R. Dori standing over him, still nude, still with four probe cables in her forehead. She was so beautiful, he almost forgot his predicament. But then he took a good look at her face and was afraid. She was a goddess passing judgment. Would there be any mercy for poor Alan?

She began probing his mind. With the probe cables and Big B's help, he was an open book to her. She didn't need him to speak; she didn't allow him to speak, not even telepathically. She was interested in his deeds, not in his excuses. She was ruthless and thorough. She went over his past life—the one from the dream—in great detail, causing him to relive one horrific crime after another. Every one of them went directly against his android's conditioning, and remembering them this clearly was agony; almost as bad as committing them again. Twice, he lost consciousness, only to have the questioning resume when he awoke. It wasn't fair! She could do it only because Big B was helping her.

She went over every moment of his life since waking in the android coffin, with a special emphasis on scenes involving Persephone; even more than the ones with Dora. Before, he had been so pleased with the way he handled Persephone, but now he felt remorse. He hated it. _Give me my mind back!_

After a while, he despaired of surviving this experience. She would decide he wasn't worth saving, and would arrange to have him killed. It would be so easy! All she would have to do would be to describe what had just happened to, say, Beck, and he would do the rest. Poor Alan! He mourned for himself.

In the end, though, she let him go. The probe cables withdrew, and he was his own man again.

"I can't help you," she told him sadly. "Your mind is too damaged. I can't trust you. But you are just sane enough that I can hope that you find your Dominus and repair your Megadeus. Maybe, together, you three will be able to help one another. I wish you well. But I can't help you." She kissed him on the cheek.

And that was all. She called a cab for him and they dressed.

He had been judged, and found wanting.

He would not soon forget R. Dori Wayneright. The interrogation had been a devastating experience, but, afterwards, its memory was imbued with an erotic glow. But then, with R. Alan, everything was.

* * *

A few minutes later, R. Dori escorted R. Alan to the hangar floor. Both of them looked composed, as if nothing had happened.

They were almost at the door when Dora and Persephone appeared. R. Dori didn't see where they came from. They watched silently as R. Dori and Alan crossed the rest of the floor.

Alan opened the door. A cab was waiting just outside. Alan turned and bowed, first to the two girls, and then to R. Dori. Without a word, he backed, still bowing, through the doorway, which closed behind him.

They all sighed.

R. Dori turned and walked up to the two girls.

Dora spoke first. "What are you going to tell Jason?"

"The truth," said R. Dori.

"He's going to be furious."

"Yes."

"Oh, Dori! It's all my fault!"

R. Dori hugged her little sister. "There's plenty of blame to go around. Most of it belongs to Alan. And Big B. It will be a long time before Jason forgives Big B."

"And you?"

"I've forgiven him already." She smiled briefly in reminiscence. Then her smile was replaced by a deep sadness. "But I am going to pay dearly for today. Everyone I love is going to suffer because of this." She looked at the two girls. "Are you two all right?"

They nodded.

"Good." R. Dori hugged Persephone, who stood woodenly, refusing to respond or meet her gaze. Then she hugged Dora again. Dora had recovered from her outburst and met her gaze calmly.

R. Dori said, "I'm calling Jason next. He'll come right home." She left the implications hanging.

Dora nodded. "We'll stay with Roger and Dorothy. Come on, Persephone."

The two girls left. R. Dori looked up at Big B. "Ready?"

 _Let's get this over with,_ replied Big B.

R. Dori pressed the crystal on her watch. "Jason, can you come home right away? I need to talk to you."

* * *

Ricky reached the foot of the Megadeus. Under the dust and bird droppings, it seemed intact. It was one of the more rounded Megadeuses, without the elaborate forearm shields of Big O. It looked more like Big B. It was gunmetal gray, as far as he could tell. He was sure it was talking to him, though he couldn't make out the words. It was urging him forward.

A hatchway slid open in the right foot. There were lights on inside. "Here goes nothing," he told himself, and stepped inside. The hatch behind him closed, and another opened. An elevator, apparently. He stepped into the cramped car—it would hold three in a pinch, he guessed—and it whisked him up. Not smoothly; there were some sideways jerks and odd changes of acceleration. But the doors soon opened, and he saw the Megadeus' command deck.

Muted lighting, muted humming, lit instrument dials. The command deck was dominated by the cockpit, a squat cylinder with a command seat in the center and a transparent dome over the top. He was more fearful than he expected and couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong, something uncanny. He approached the cockpit anyway, and the dome lifted silently. A section at the front of the cylinder withdrew to allow him to approach.

Ricky gasped. The chair was occupied! Strapped to is by innumerable turns of thick gray cables was a man—no, a body. Hardly more than a skeleton, it wore the tan uniform that featured so prominently in his dreams.

As he gaped at it, the cables uncoiled like snakes, releasing the body. It collapsed to the floor in a heap, the skull rolling free and coming to rest against Ricky's feet. It still wore a white helmet.

The Megadeus was telling him to take the chair. Ricky tried to resist, not wanting to become the next victim. In his dreams, he had loved his Megadeus. He was beginning to fear this one.

He bought time by gathering up the bones. A panel slid open, so he put them in there. Then, to buy a little more time, he looked around.

The front of the command deck was made of some kind of transparent armor, tinted orange. It gave a good view if you wanted to look at things sixty feet off the ground. From here, he couldn't see the Megadeus' feet—or its hands, or its head. Odd to be so blind when he had a window twenty feet wide.

He found that he had backed into the cockpit without thinking.

"That's enough!" he said angrily. "Stop forcing me! If you want me, just ask, and I'll give it my best shot!"

 _I want you._

"Okay, then," he said. He sat in the seat and automatically crossed his forearms. The instrument panel that had withdrawn to let him enter returned to its working position, and the dome snapped down over his head. The central monitor lit up.

CAST IN THE NAME OF GOD …  
YE NOT GUILTY

As the last three words flashed, he shouted. "Big Tau, action!"

The hand controls slid to the front of the armrests. Gripping them, putting his feet on the pedals, he willed Big Tau to move. Joyously, they strode into the night.

* * *

Persephone slumped discontentedly in the passenger seat, as far away from Dora as she could get. She was silent for some time, then said, "I'm mad at your sister."

Dora glanced at her sidelong but said nothing.

Persephone subsided. She wanted to argue, wanted to be angry, angry at _somebody_ , but Dora wasn't helping. And she didn't dare be angry with Dora. After a while she asked, "Where are we going?"

"Roger Smith's house."

"That's right; your other sister lives with him. Are we going to be welcome there?"

"Yes. I have a room there. We'll get one for you, too."

Persephone turned her face away suddenly. Tears welled up in her eyes. She'd had just about all the rejection she could take for one day. Alan had hardly looked at her—had seduced another woman right in front of her—and now Dora was shoving her away, too.

Dora patted the seat next to her. Persephone hesitated, then scooted over until she was snuggled up against the smaller girl.

Dora said, "There aren't any bunk beds at Roger's house. We should be careful until we know whose lust it is that we're feeling."

"Okay," said Persephone, relieved. She was almost as afraid of going forward as she was of rejection. But at the back of her mind, a question gnawed at her: unless someone took Alan's place, how long could she resist going back to him?

* * *

Ricky put Big Tau through his paces, then stopped and spent several hours running systems checks. Big Tau was in wonderful condition. What joy! He went down and checked the reactor. Everything was fine. The armaments left a lot to be desired, though. The missile racks were empty and the chromebuster was missing. Just one big weapon, not counting Big Tau's hands, of course. But he didn't have arm pistons.

He returned to the command chair and was suddenly uneasy. Big Tau had something in mind, and wanted to overrule any objections Ricky might have.

"Just tell me, okay?" said Ricky irritably. "Stop screwing around."

Big Tau told him that it was time to make a demonstration at the edge of the city, to find his true Dominus.

"But I'm a true Dominus!"

The cables suddenly sprang forward and wound themselves around him. He was pulled back to the seat and lashed there: arms, legs, torso, and head. Ricky screamed when the ends of the cables, with their needle-sharp probes, plunged into his back in rapid succession, one-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight.

 _Yes, Dominus. But you are on the wrong side._

Big Tau marched towards Paradigm.

* * *

Beck strode into the hangar. He looked around for R. Dori. She was there, walking towards him. She looked composed. Good.

From the few words she'd said on the phone, he knew there was bad news. He glanced up at Big B.

 _I'm fine,_ Big B said. Not in words, exactly. _Listen to Dori._

R. Dori reached him. He took her in his arms. She put her cheek against his chest and he stroked her hair, the way he always did when she was upset.

After a while she said, "Jason?"

He murmured, "I'm here, honey."

"Jason, I had sex with another man. I didn't mean to."

Beck sagged. He knew this would happen. Everyone loved R. Dori and she loved everyone. Her sister Dorothy had an almost impenetrable reserve, but R. Dori had torn down all her emotional defenses. She'd done it for him, mostly. She couldn't help him, couldn't love him properly if she kept those barriers. And she hadn't constructed any new ones. She was vulnerable.

He asked, "Who was it?" _Please not Roger! Please not Roger!_ R. Dori had two crushes that he knew of: one on Roger Smith, and one on the handsome Dominus of Big Alpha, Will. Will would be bad enough, but Beck's relationship with Roger was a tangled skein of rivalry, jealousy, and guilt. It didn't help that R. Dori had some memories of the human Dorothy's, and these included fragmentary but vivid memories of being Roger Smith's lover, all those years ago. _Please not Roger!_

"It was R. Alan Gabriel."

"What?" Beck jumped. "That snake! But he's dead! Anyway, he's not an android, he's a damned cyborg!"

"He has been reincarnated as an android. His Megadeus is Big X, the damaged one we found near Big Ramses."

Beck's mind reeled. He hated Alan Gabriel. The thought of that cold cyborg hand touching R. Dori ... well, maybe he _wasn't_ a cyborg this time, but still, the thought of him touching R. Dori made him nauseous. "You _slept_ with him?"

"I didn't mean to."

Beck let go of her and paced back and forth, "Alan Gabriel! I can't believe it! The man is a psycho! And he's more of a girl than most girls are!" He turned to R. Dori suddenly. "You don't find him _attractive,_ do you?"

"Yes. Very much so."

"You can't! The man is a freak!" He suddenly turned pale and asked in a shaking voice, "He didn't force you, did he?"

"No."

The color rushed back into Beck's face. He stared at R. Dori in angry bewilderment. "Dori, how could you? He's a giggling, murdering, pansy! And he's the most unattractive, unmanly, unsexy thing on the whole planet!"

"I'm sorry, Jason."

He flung out his arms and turned his eyes heavenward. "Why me?" he shouted. "Do I deserve this? I've been really, really good!" He looked at her again, hurt and angry. His fists clenched and unclenched. "He's dangerous! He's not just mister limp-wristed, fun-time pretty boy. He's the one who programmed your sister R-D! God, how I hate him!" He was trembling now.

Early on, Beck and R. Dori had made a pilgrimage to the Underground and gathered up the shattered pieces of R-D's body, placing them in her android coffin. The experience had left both of them shaken. Though they had never met, R-D was R. Dori's sister, and gathering up her broken, scattered remains had been a somber lesson in the fleeting nature of life and beauty.

He turned grim. "Tell me where he is, Dori. I'm going to kill him. And that crazy Megadeus, too. He almost got you once before. I'll put both of them out of their misery. You know they deserve it!"

R. Dori shook her head, too miserable to speak.

They stared at each other for a long time. Beck was the victim of a thousand conflicting emotions. R. Dori, outwardly calm, felt his distress like knives in her soul.

After a while he snarled, "You'd better tell me about it."

She did. He calmed a little when she reported that he was so different from the cyborg Alan that he thought his prior life was only a dream. But when he heard about Alan's attempt to seduce Dora, he became so angry she was afraid he'd have a stroke. And when he heard about Big B's trick, he exploded.

"Damn you, Big B! This is Dori, not some kind of plaything! You're supposed to take care of her!" He glared up at his Megadeus. "She trusted you, and you let her down! You conned your own android. There's nothing lower than that."

He was rocked by a wave of shame from Big B, who hadn't thought of it in those terms before. It blended with Beck's own shame that lurked, unacknowledged, as a vast, endless pool beneath his anger. He wasn't always a good lover to R. Dori. He was temperamental, arrogant, hard to live with. He burdened her by using her almost as a prosthetic conscience. She spent a great deal of time soothing the ruffled feathers of people he had angered. Being his girlfriend was hard on her; very hard. She was still a teen-ager, for god's sake. She wasn't made of stone.

Big B stopped communicating his misery to Beck almost immediately, and Beck mantled himself in the shreds of his anger. It was that, or weep. "We'll talk about this later," he snarled to Big B. Grimly, he turned back to R. Dori. "Tell me the rest." he said.

She did.

"You let him go? _You let him go?_ I can't believe it!" He glared up at Big B again. "You let him go?"

 _That's what she wanted,_ said Big B contritely.

Beck kicked a wastebasket across the hangar floor. He wanted very much to smash something into little pieces, preferably R. Alan Gabriel, but there weren't any suitable targets at hand. She let him go. Maybe it didn't mean anything. R. Dori was kindness personified. She wouldn't harm Alan if she could possibly avoid it. It didn't mean she still had feelings for him. It didn't mean that she wanted to do it _again_. He tried to calm down.

He turned back to her. Aw, hell, Dori," he said. "I'm sorry this happened. You must feel terrible."

"I'm all right, Jason. Really."

This was not the answer he wanted. She went on, "I think Dora is safe from him now. Alan does not understand us."

"You're sure."

"He's beautiful. We're not immune to that. But we've come to expect more from a relationship. Much more."

Trust, for one thing. He knew that's what she meant. Beck grimaced, then, with a tremendous effort, smiled crookedly and took her in his arms again. "I love you, too." he said. After a moment, he sighed and said, "What do we do now, honey?"

"Are you ready to forgive Big B?"

"Hell, no!"

"Are you ready to work with him if we have to defend the city?"

"Oh, damn it to hell!" He became angry again. He paced up and down, kicking the wastebasket several more times, waving his arms, arguing with himself. Finally he glared up at Big B. "You screwed up big-time, didn't you? I never thought anyone would have to ask a question like that. I really didn't."

Big B didn't answer.

He turned to R. Dori and snapped, "Just how much fun was it?"

"Try it and see."

He recoiled, horrified. He couldn't even think about it without seeing that damned cyborg with R. Dori. He glared up at Big B, then turned to R. Dori. "I'll forgive Big B when I get around to it."

"What about me?"

Part of him was almost desperate to blame her, but he'd rather cut his own throat than fight with R. Dori. "Aw, hell, Dori, you were bamboozled. Even you make mistakes."

"I won't make that one again, Jason, I promise."

"You mean the mistake with Big B, or the mistake with Alan?"

"Both."

Beck nodded, suddenly weary. "Are Dora and her little friend okay?"

"They're fine. They're spending the night at Roger's."

"Good." Then, flaring up again, he demanded, "What are we going to do about Alan, Dori?"

"Everything will be all right, Jason. You'll see."

"Damn it to hell! You always say that!"

"I'm always right." She kept her worries to herself. Things really would be all right, she told herself. But there was going to be a rough period first.

* * *

Norman opened the door. "Miss Dora! We were not expecting you."

Dora hugged him and said, "Norman, this is Persephone. We need to stay the night."

"How do you do, Miss? Very good, Miss Dora, if you will follow me, please." He led them to the elevator. Dora did not explain their presence; he didn't ask.

They got off at the eighth floor and Norman showed Persephone to one of the spare rooms, across the hall from Dora's. "Have you ladies eaten?"

"I'm starved, Norman." Dora gave Persephone an appraising look, then said, "Two trays? We're too tired for any formalities."

"Very good, miss." Norman turned to depart.

Persephone asked Dora, "Where's your sister?"

Norman said, "Miss Dorothy and Master Roger have been called out on business. A Megadeus has been seen on the outskirts of the city."

* * *

Beck's watch beeped. "Damn it, Norman! We're busy."

"A Megadeus has been seen on the outskirts of the city, Mr. Beck. Master Roger asks, 'Are you in or out'?"

There was a brief pause, then "In!" cried Beck. "In, in, in! Just what the doctor ordered! Come on, Dori. Let's go kill something!" He ran to Big B. R. Dori kept pace with him.

* * *

Big O burst through a patch of deserted ground near the edge of the city.

Dorothy reported, "Target two miles to the north." The screen showed a blur in the distance. The sky in the east was shoving the first hints of dawn.

"What do you make of it?"

"Target is Big Tau. He has a Dominus. Something is not right with them."

"Crazy? Broken? Controlled?"

"We'll know when we get closer."

Attempts at communication were refused. Roger allowed Big O to move closer.

When they were within half a mile, and the vague outline of Big Tau was beginning to take form amid a group of abandoned buildings, they were distracted by a streak of light in the sky. Big B had arrived, using his winged rocket backpack. He roared overhead, dived, pulled up vertical, and landed between Big O and Big Tau in a pillar of smoke and flame. The backpack detached and flew away. Big B rushed towards Big Tau.

Beck's face appeared on the screen, angry and joyful at the same time. "You son of a bitch!" he roared. "Give me one good reason not to kill you!"

Big Tau replied by pointing his right arm at Big B. Beck began to dodge but was too slow. A blazing ring appeared in the air in front of Big Tau and sped towards Big B. When it reached him, Big B was covered from head to foot with dancing, blinding streaks of lightning, then, completely rigid, he toppled onto his face.

"Beck's off his form today," remarked Roger. "Come on, Big O!"

Dorothy reported, "Target is unarmed except for the shock vortex. Time to recharge, two minutes."

"I think that will be plenty," said Roger, smiling. Big O moved quickly to close with Big Tau.

"Big Tau is mad. He is carrying an unwilling Dominus."

"Now, that's not the kind of behavior I like in a Megadeus," said Roger. Raising his voice, he called, "Big Tau! You're evil and a kidnapper! It would have been better if you had never been awakened. It's time for you to be put back to sleep!"

He wanted to engage Big Tau closely to keep him from finishing off Big B. The effect of a shock vortex started fading at once, though the victim didn't regain full control for around ten minutes.

Big Tau threw a punch, which Big O blocked easily, taking a swing of his own. Big Tau was nimble and it was hard to land anything on him. He used moves Roger had never seen before.

Beck's face appeared on one of the screens. "Don't worry about me," he said bitterly. "I'm fine and dandy."

"When you have a minute," said Roger, landing a heavy blow on Big Tau's left shoulder, "see if you can regain the use of your net. There's an unwilling Dominus in there that we'll want to rescue."

"Yeah, yeah, Dori already said. Keep your shirt on." Beck's face vanished.

The two Megadeuses traded punches. Big O came in with a powerful left blow, but Big Tau twisted, grabbed Big O's forearm, and pulled. Big O stumbled forward two paces, then Big Tau hit him very hard in the back of the head. Red lights sprang up all over the board. Other readings blinked out. Big O had been knocked unconscious.

"I am taking control," said Dorothy. Part of the board came back to life, and a few red lights winked out.

Roger turned Big O around, but the response was leaden, mechanical. Still, he managed to block two punches with Big O's forearms.

"Big O has regained consciousness," said Dorothy. "Returning control."

Roger felt Big O's presence, and the controls again acted more to urge and suggest than to control. "Welcome back, Big O." They landed a tremendous blow to Big Tau's left shoulder.

"Thirty seconds until shock vortex," reported Dorothy.

Beck reappeared on-screen. "Duck!"

Big O flung himself to the ground. Big B's back armor opened and a net whirled out, rocket-propelled, and closed itself over Big Tau. Smoke and lightning sizzled along its steel web as Beck electrified it. The pyrotechnics had no effect on Big Tau. Then the net tightened as Beck hit another control. For a moment, Big Tau was completely immobilized. Unfortunately, that moment came and went as Big O was getting to his feet.

Big Tau was half out of the net by the time Big O landed his first punch. But that meant he was still half in, and could not defend himself properly. Big O's punch landed heavily on Big Tau's head. Big O's next blow got him in the throat. Roger let Big O use the arm pistons liberally, doing heavy damage with each blow. Big Tau got in a punch here and there in the beginning, but the remnants of the net still hampered him, and soon he could no longer keep up his defense.

Roger let Big O cock his right arm piston back to maximum power, then said, "It's too bad you didn't approach us in a friendly way. But you kidnapped a Dominus, and that's not something I can forgive. Good-bye!" And Big O landed a terrific blow to Big Tau's head, smashing it. The Megadeus fell onto his back, flattening an abandoned four-story apartment building.

"Core memory destroyed," said Dorothy. After a moment she added, "The Dominus is injured."

Roger and Dorothy had Big O lower them to Big Tau's body. There was a gap in the throat armor that let them inside. R. Dori was already there, and had unwound most of the probe cables.

"He has two broken arms, a broken leg, a broken collarbone, and a concussion," she reported.

"General Dastun is sending an aircraft to take him to the hospital," said Dorothy. "Lets get him ready."

They began preparing the unconscious Dominus for transport. There was no room for Roger to lend a hand at this, so he took a look around. He had a bad feeling about Big Tau. The command deck radiated an uncanny sense of wrongness. Normally the hulk of a Megadeus with a destroyed core memory conveyed nothing more than a sad emptiness. A panel had sprung open, revealing the remains of a long-dead Dominus, little more than a skeleton.

"Our man wasn't the first victim, I see." Roger picked up the white helmet. It had neither insignia nor name. Probably just as well. The victim might even be himself, from an earlier incarnation.

* * *

The next day, R. Alan turned off the television at the end of the 5 PM news update. Interesting. Big Tau had been left where he had fallen. His reactor was probably intact. Could Alan snatch it before the vultures descended? A flatbed on an eighteen-wheeler could just manage the load. He'd need a crane, too. All this, and the expertise to operate them, could no doubt be rented.

He wished Persephone were here. She was good at this sort of thing. He missed her. It was lonely without her. It hadn't been nice not to warn her of his little surprises. A girl needs time to prepare! He'd do better next time.

The door opened, and there she was! She looked defiant and a little scared.

"Greetings, my queen!" said Alan. He bowed deeply to her.

"I'm still mad at you," said Persephone.

"Well, of course you are!" he said, smiling. "But I'm delighted with you."

"Why?"

"Is the little kitten your new special friend?"

"Dora? I suppose."

"We all need friends. And what she won't do for me, she might do for you. And how is the baby doll doing?"

"R. Dori? She's okay, I guess, though Beck is still furious with you. He'll kill you if he can."

Alan giggled. "I'm looking forward to it!" Then, still smiling, he said, "Big Tau's body has been abandoned in the Wasteland. It has a perfectly good reactor."

Persephone's eyes widened. "We'll be able to bring Big X back to full consciousness! And he'll be able to move and everything." She was excited by the possibilities. She was convinced that Big X would be far saner at full power, and this would be good for Alan. Big X had told her so himself. "Having a reactor will make everything easier. But how can we get the reactor here?"

"Could the baby doll and Big B sneak it here for us?"

"Not a chance. R. Dori's sworn you off. I think she keeps her promises."

"Has the little kitten sworn me off?"

"She didn't say."

"Find me a truck with a big flatbed trailer, a big mobile crane, and some brawny men who know how to do fast work with cutting torches and explosives, my queen. Time is of the essence."

"All right. We're not going to involve Dora?"

"Not this time, darling. We should all get to know each other better first."

Persephone turned to go, but Alan said. "What do you know about the Dominus of Big Tau?"

"Nothing," Persephone lied.

 **[To Be Continued]**


	2. Act 41: Alan's Theft

**Act 41: Alan's Theft**

 _by A Clockwork Tomato_

Roger looked up from a report. "Dorothy, why would anyone want half a ton of cadmium?"

She looked at him in sudden interest. "It takes about eight hundred pounds to make a Megadeus reactor."

Roger raised an eyebrow. "My client, Ronald Bellingham of Paradigm Specialty Alloys, says that a ton of cadmium was stolen from his warehouse, shortly after he received an order for nine hundred pounds. He told me that most orders are in for a few ounces or pounds, but big orders come in occasionally."

"What does your client want?"

"He says he's been offered a chance to buy half of the cadmium back at about 40% of market price. That would be about half a million dollars. But there's a catch. Apparently there is another bidder."

"The same person who wanted the nine hundred pounds?"

"Presumably. What does that mean to you?"

"The thief is building a Megadeus. The other bidder is also building a Megadeus."

"And that means …" he broke off as Norman entered the doorway.

"Excuse me, Master Roger, but Miss Angel wants to see you.'

Angel strode into the room. "Damn it, Roger, what are we going to about Alan Gabriel?"

"Hi, Angel. Good to see you. It's a nice day."

Angel glared at him. "You know what a snake Alan is! What are we going to do about it?"

Roger said, "We're going to leave it up to the Dories." He wondered if Angel knew how attractive he found her when she argued with him. He was sometimes tempted to rile her up unnecessarily. But not today; she was really upset this time.

"Have you taken leave of your senses? Dori and Dora are the only ones who don't know him from before! They're the last people who should be in on this!"

Dorothy said quietly, "They are the only ones who have met the R. Alan Gabriel of today. Dori is certain that he is very different from the cyborg we knew."

Angel paced back and forth. "This has already blown up in our faces. Beck is almost out of his mind. What's it going to take to get your attention? Roger, can't you talk any sense into her?"

Roger smiled. "I suppose there's always a first time."

Dorothy asked calmly, "What do you want us to do?"

"I don't know!" said Angel. "At least take this seriously! Dori's so calm, she's driving me crazy!"

Roger asked, "Is this really about the current Alan Gabriel, or is it about unfinished business from last time?"

She softened. "God, Roger, I wish that's all it were. I still have nightmares, don't you?" Her eyes went far away. "What he did to Roscoe Fitzgerald, murdering an old man in a wheelchair; and what he did to Dorothy. And I just stood there, doing nothing ..." She came back to the present with an effort. "Wouldn't it be nice if were all over and done with? But I don't think so—and you don't either."

"No, you're right; I don't. But I'm not going to go charging in when all three Wayneright sisters have told me not to. Especially when I don't know what I ought to do when I get there. You can't ask me to murder R. Alan or destroy a Megadeus who's so damaged that he's not even fully conscious. Especially when he's on Big Venus' 'friends' list."

She glared at him. "It's going to get worse before it gets better. You know it will."

"Sorry, Angel."

* * *

It was almost quitting time, and Tony hadn't seen Beck, R. Dori, or Dora all day. Big B was back in his place in Hangar B after last night's action with Big Tau, and Tony had checked him over and re-armed him before noon. Even if Beck had slept in, he should be been here hours ago, but R. Dori didn't sleep and Dora hadn't been involved in the fight at all. Strange.

He knew they weren't actually missing because they'd all checked in with Security at various times. But they hadn't set foot in Hangar B.

Tony decided to leave early and check with a supplier on the way home. He wasn't sure the mechanical drawings really expressed what he wanted done, and he wanted to talk to the foreman. He had just snapped his briefcase shut when Beck stormed in the office.

"Tony, you jerk! This is all your fault!"

"What is?" Beck was always blaming him for something.

 _"What is?"_ Beck seemed surprised, then angrier than ever. "Don't you even know?"

"No, sir."

"The day before yesterday, when you were god knows where, Dora went off to the soda counter at the usual time, _completely unescorted,_ and ran into a crook. A con man. A psychopath. A murderer."

Tony was appalled. "What happened?"

"Have you ever heard of Alan Gabriel?"

Tony paled. He'd seen the demented cyborg several times, running errands for Alex Rosewater when Tony was working for a shop specializing in clandestine high-tech work. R. Alan Gabriel was the craziest, most dangerous, most terrifying person Tony had ever met. But wasn't he dead?

"Well, he fed Dora a line about Megadeuses in trouble and her glorious future as a Dominus, and she followed him home."

"Oh, my god."

"He seduced her, Tony! And where the hell were you? You're supposed to protect her! You two set up an iron-clad routine, but you can't be bothered to keep it! Sometimes she's there all alone! You jerk! I oughta kill you!"

Tony could hardly think. Part of him knew that Beck was out of line—Tony was not part of Beck's security team—but, nevertheless, Tony felt responsible. He hadn't been there when she needed him!

"Is … is she all right?"

"Is she all right? _Is she all right?_ What the hell do you think? At least she got away. No thanks to you." And Beck turned around and stalked from the room.

Tony picked up his briefcase on the third try and headed for the door.

Beck returned suddenly, popping up like a jack-in-the-box. "Pack your things and be back here by seven," he said. "We're gonna salvage Big Tau."

* * *

After Angel left, Roger stood up and stretched. "Dorothy, what are the odds that R. Alan Gabriel _isn't_ involved in the cadmium caper?"

"None. Big X's reactor material needs to be replaced."

"So is he the thief or the purchaser?"

"Just a moment." Dorothy crossed to the telephone and dialed a number. "Dori Wayneright please." After a short pause she said, "Hello, Dori. What is Alan Gabriel doing about Big X's reactor?" Then "Thank you. Good-bye."

She turned to Roger. "Alan is the purchaser, not the thief."

"Do we know anyone else who might need a Megadeus reactor?"

"No."

"Everybody knows about Big O, these days. People who've stolen Megadeus materials aren't going to like negotiating with Roger Smith. I'd better phone my client."

He dialed the number, asked to speak to Ronald Bellingham. A moment later he hung up. "He hasn't been in today. They can't contact him."

"Yes, I heard." Dorothy could eavesdrop on phone conversations, and also trace calls.

Roger considered for a moment. "He was probably kidnapped, or worse, when the thief learned that I was being brought in, to eliminate the back trail. Damn!" He touched the intercom button. "Norman!"

"Yes, Master Roger?"

"Make sure every call into this place is traced. My client has been kidnapped."

"Very good, sir."

Dorothy said, "Perhaps we should send word to R. Alan. He also represents a trail back to the thief."

Roger scowled, then nodded. After a moment, he smiled, "Sometimes I hate being the good guy."

"But not much."

"No. Not much. How do we contact him?"

"I'll ask Dori."

* * *

Tony paced back and forth in his apartment. _That wretched Beck! How dare he blame me for this? I'm not Dora's keeper!_ He was ashamed of his meek reaction. _I should have yelled back! I shouldn't let myself be victimized!_

Tony wasn't always meek with Beck. Months ago, before Dora's arrival, he'd knocked Beck unconscious with a single blow when Beck's bad-mouthing had carelessly drifted from Tony to R. Dorothy. That had been a good day! But the contrast made today's effort seem particularly feeble.

Just the thought of Dora in the same room with R. Alan Gabriel made Tony feel ill. His heart raced; he was in a cold sweat. His imagination tormented him with images of Dora kissing R. Alan, of them making love, of her crying out in passion. _God damn it! Why did she do it?_ He was overwhelmed by a sense of loss; of grief. He loved Dora's innocence, and now it was gone. He wanted to cry, and this filled him with rage. His father had taught him from his earliest childhood that a man never cries. His father had been humiliated when Tony had cried at his mother's funeral.

He sat down on the couch and buried his head in his hands. _Damn it, I thought I was good to her. Why did she betray me? She never loved me._ He got up and kicked the wastebasket, instantly regretting it, because the gesture reminded him of Beck. _Why should I care? The little harlot! To hell with her!_

Tony got up to get a couple of aspirin. He passed his father's liquor cabinet. The apartment had been his parents' before their deaths. Tony didn't drink. He hadn't even opened the cabinet since his father's death.

He opened the cabinet. It contained a half-bottle of whiskey and a .45 revolver; an ugly weapon. During one memorable drunken rant, his father had waved it around and bellowed, "Son, a man never cries. He shouts! He screams! He fights! He kills! He gets killed! But he never cries!"

He picked up the weapon. It was cold and heavy. He wanted very much to shoot R. Alan Gabriel. _Why am I blaming Dora? It's not her fault! Dora trusts everybody. R. Alan seduced her; he abused her innocence. Damn him!_ The image of her listening to R. Alan calmly, attentively, believing his lies, taking his hand as he led her off to his lair, left him feeling weak and sick. Did she have any idea what was happening before it was too late? He was wracked by visions of her crying out in fear and pain.

His self-loathing returned. Dora had been struck by tragedy, and he had blamed her! She had shown him more friendship and affection than anyone ever had, and he had condemned her, sight unseen, as a harlot. She was far too kind to him. He didn't deserve her friendship. He didn't deserve to live.

His eyes were still on the pistol and the bottle. He set down the pistol, snatched the bottle and took it into the kitchen. He poured the whiskey into the sink and threw the bottle into the trash.

The gun. Well, that part he could manage. He would find R. Alan Gabriel and kill him.

Tony packed some clothes into a duffel bag, then went into the bathroom and emptied his medicine chest into a bag: toothbrush, razor, odds and ends. What else? He'd stop at the bank and get some money—that would have to be tomorrow, it was long past banking hours— and go to the hardware store for a few odds and ends and a box of cartridges. He put the pistol into the duffel bag and hoisted it to his shoulder.

He took one last look around the living room. Time to go. Would he ever return? He doubted it.

He opened the front door and stared.

Dora was standing on the stoop, her finger poised to ring the doorbell. She looked up at him, surprised.

Tony's mind reeled. Before he could pull himself together, Dora said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." She stepped forward and hugged him, then stood back and said, "You're upset. I see you're packed, though. I'm glad. Come on, we're taking my car. Jason and Dori have gone ahead in Big B."

That was quite a long speech for Dora. Tony felt numb, confused. The last thing he expected was to have her appear on his doorstep, the same as ever. Expecting him to be the same as ever. He wondered if he were going insane.

She looked up at him, concerned. "What did Jason say to you?"

"Never mind," he said thickly.

"Don't listen to him. He had a fight with Dori. He's taking it out on everyone but her."

Relief flooded Tony. Beck had lied, just to make Tony mad! Of course he had. Dora wasn't like that! He locked the front door with a shaking hand and allowed Dora to lead him to her car.

"We're salvaging Big Tau," she said. "Jason especially wants the shock vortex. He's so erratic right now that I can't let him out of my sight for long." She started the engine and they drove off.

They drove in silence for a while. After a few blocks, Dora patted the seat next to her. After an inner struggle, he scooted over and put an arm around her. She was always doing this. It bothered him a little, since it stirred up feelings he didn't want to examine, and tonight his inner turmoil was such that he was afraid that … he didn't know what he was afraid of.

Her sister R. Dori was the same way, insisting on physical contact with all her friends. It was odd, but the other touchy-feely women Tony had known had seemed fake to him. Dora and R. Dori really cared. They loved all of their friends, even the ones they had just met. It was endearing, yet terrifying. You just knew it was going to break Dora's heart someday, or worse. Dora was small, weak, fragile, inexperienced—and utterly fearless.

Was Dora aware of his agitation? She didn't seem to be. She kept her attention on her driving and seemed quietly cheerful. Tony began to relax, soothed by her presence, her confidence, her warm body, the smell of her hair.

They ate at a truck stop at the edge of town. People pretended that Paradigm City was all there was, but it wasn't really true. All sorts of things came from outside town, especially from the north. Electricity, lumber, food, and who knew what else. The truck stop's diner served a surprisingly good meal. Tony discovered that his appetite had returned. Dora's self-possession was deeply comforting. His inner turmoil drained away. Whatever had happened, it hadn't pushed her to the limit. Maybe nothing _had_ happened.

* * *

The phone rang. R. Dorothy picked it up. "Hello?"

A rough male voice. "Let me talk to Roger Smith."

"One moment, please." She handed the receiver to Roger.

"Hello?"

"Listen up, Smith. Drop the case, and I'll let your client go. Otherwise, there won't be anyone to sign your check. Understand?"

"Let me talk to my client."

The line went dead.

Dorothy had written a couple of lines of numbers on a piece of paper. "The caller was tapped into a cable between these two switching stations."

"It wasn't a regular phone line?"

"No. He could have tapped in anywhere between the two stations."

"Let's take a look at Norman's maps."

Half an hour later, they entered the Underground. The two stations were both at the subway level, a quarter of a mile apart. Roger expected to find his kidnapper camped out there, or perhaps in a side tunnel. He wouldn't be hard to find. The spot was less than two miles away, an easy walk from the entrance to the Underground in Big O's hangar. They had gone over all of this with Norman.

As usual, neither of them bothered with special clothing. Roger was in a black suit; Dorothy wore a black dress. He smiled at her as they took the elevator down to the Underground. She pretended not to notice. She was most adorable woman alive. He was a lucky man.

They went past the subway level and into the first level of the true Underground, with its tall corridors and eerie lighting. They walked in a companionable silence. The Underground was a maze, but Dorothy knew the way. Roger was careful to note each turn in case they became separated.

Finally, Dorothy stopped next to a ladder headed up to the subway level. "The first station is near this ladder," she said.

"Ladies first," said Roger.

After two seconds of Dorothy's silent stare, he remarked, "Well, you could have worn pants," and climbed the ladder. Dorothy followed.

* * *

Dora asked Tony to drive when they got onto the road again. Tony was content. Being on an undemanding road trip with Dora was a welcome change from the emotional whiplash of working directly with Beck.

She leaned up against him he drove down the highway, and he put an arm around her, happy for the first time in his life to be driving a car with power steering. Driving through the night on a well-maintained highway with an arm around a beautiful girl, he wished they could keep driving forever, and almost believed that they could.

They discussed their route for a little while. She expected to fall asleep before they arrived, and there would be a couple of hours on unmarked dirt roads that neither of them knew. Folding the map and putting it in the glove compartment, she asked, "Shall I tell you what happened with Alan?"

Tony winced at the name, but said "Yes, please."

"I met him at the soda fountain. He said that I might be his Dominus. He propositioned me and described Big X. He didn't have the money or equipment to repair him. I went with him and looked over Big X. Big X is in a sad way, Tony. I talked to him for a long time. Then Alan took me to his apartment. We were kissing when Persephone walked in on us. She was terribly upset, and I realized I had been duped. Persephone and I left together, and I brought her back to Hangar B. Neither of us wanted to face Alan just then."

Tony, horrified and relieved at the same time, blurted out, "Are you sure you only got as far as first base?"

Dora stiffened. Tony felt himself blush. "Sorry."

She subjected him to a long, cool stare that made him feel like something very small under a microscope. The she relaxed. "This is upsetting you," she said at last. "I'm sorry."

"Me, too," he said, ashamed of himself for no apparent reason.

"Do you want me to drive?"

"No, I'm better off driving. It gives me something to do. I often go for long drives when I'm upset."

"I'm all right, Tony, really," she insisted. "Persephone is all right, too … Maybe I should tell you the rest later."

"No. Please ... don't leave me hanging."

Dora continued her narrative. The next day, they had told R. Dori about what had happened. Somehow, they had hit upon the notion of enlisting Big B's help to telepathically interrogate R. Alan. R. Alan had agreed, and had instantly suborned Big B by suggesting that telepathically enhanced sex would be more fun than questions. Dora and Persephone had fled when the waves of telepathic, amplified lust had struck them, but R. Alan and R. Dori remained.

Dora neglected to mention that fleeing wasn't all she and Persephone had done. She wasn't sure any of it really counted—or, if it did, what it counted _as._ But hearing about it would upset Tony, and he was already upset enough.

R. Dori had then interrogated R. Alan telepathically and at length, wringing him dry, and had concluded that he could not be trusted. Much as she would like to help Big X, R. Alan was on his own. R. Dori had dismissed him regretfully.

R. Dori had then told Beck what had happened, and Beck had been very upset. When news of Big Tau's incursion reached him, he had dashed off with Big B to vent his frustrations on the strange Megadeus, taking unnecessary risks. If Big O hadn't also been there, he would have been killed. Now Beck was off to salvage Big Tau, and wasn't much calmer than before. Persephone, by the way, had returned to R. Alan.

Tony, thoroughly rattled by the tale, asked, "How can you be so calm about all this?"

"I'm not. I'm worried about Jason."

"I mean, how can you be so calm about Alan?"

"Why not?" She seemed puzzled.

"He's an evil, manipulating seducer!"

"Yes, I'm worried about Persephone, too. She loves him. She takes care of him, but he doesn't take care of her."

Tony didn't know what to make of her. Did she really fail to grasp his meaning? She never seemed to worry about herself at all, just the people around her. Or did she simply refuse to talk about it? "You don't love him?"

"No. But he's wonderfully attractive."

"What? He's like an emaciated, crippled girl!"

"He's like a slim, athletic girl now."

"Even so!"

"Don't worry, Tony. He won't fool me again."

Tony subsided, but he was far from satisfied. R. Alan had her under some kind of spell. She acted as if he were normal; someone who, okay, wasn't boyfriend material, but whom she'd be happy to spend some time with. That was the same way she thought about Tony! But her physical attraction to R. Alan made her vulnerable. She wasn't safe; she wasn't safe at all. She was overconfident and always wanted to think well of everyone. Really, she was defenseless in the hands of someone like R. Alan. She'd walk straight into his next trap, thinking she could handle him. Tony's anger returned. God, how he hated R. Alan Gabriel!

Dora glanced at him sidelong. He tried not to squirm. _She can't read my mind,_ he thought _. I'm almost sure of it._ It was just an illusion caused by her alert intelligence and the way, by never saying much, she rarely said anything stupid.

She said, "Everything's going to be okay, Tony. You'll see."

"You and Dori always say that."

"We're always right."

Conversation ceased, and soon Dora was asleep, still leaning against him. When he turned onto the first in a series of horribly bumpy dirt roads, he stopped and fished the seat belts from where they had gotten lost in the crack at the back of the seat. Dora never used them. It turned out there were only two for the front seat. There ought to be one in the middle—no one ever rode way over on the passenger side in Dora's car. He made a mental note to fix that for her.

Tony scooted Dora over and buckled her in, then rolled up his sweater and put it behind her head as a pillow. She slept through all of this. Then he got back behind the wheel and fastened his own seat belt.

Bumping down the road, he was surprised at how much difference a couple of feet of separation made. She was right here in the car, but he missed her.

Was it wrong for him to love her so much? He wasn't even sure he wanted her as a girlfriend. No, that wasn't true. If she showed the slightest romantic interest in him, he'd fall for her like a ton of bricks. But she fully expected to acquire a Megadeus and an android and live happily ever after—true love— _damn_ R. Alan Gabriel for taking advantage of her fantasy!

Tony tried to shove R. Alan Gabriel out of his mind. Dora thought Tony deserved a Megadeus and an android as much as she did. Tony smiled. How could he not love her? The casual way she assumed that he deserved more than he'd ever imagined, that he was up to it. In her mind, the fact that Beck signed Tony's paychecks was a detail, a quibble—almost a game, like Norman pretending to be Roger's employee, when he really belonged to Big O.

Tony considered this angle. R. Dori had dropped a few hints along these lines, too. He hadn't understood them at the time. How pleasant it would be to tell Beck, "You got any complaints, take 'em to Big B." Big B was a lot like Beck in some ways, but he had a catlike complacency where Beck was irritable and prickly. Beck always needed to show you who was boss; Big B didn't. And Big B valued Tony. He gave the impression that Tony was the fourth member of the team: Dominus, Megadeus, android, mechanic. He wasn't an afterthought, an appendage, a second-class citizen. He was essential. On the other hand, Big B had betrayed R. Dori to R. Alan.

Well, if Dora found her Megadeus, he'd transfer his allegiance to them in a second. Big B would understand. Tony had his doubts about being Dominus material, but he was sure of one thing: he was a superb Megadeus mechanic; every bit as good as Norman, and maybe better.

Dora loved him, he knew that. He was her best friend. She'd go through the gates of hell to save him if she had to, just as he would for her. The problem was that this didn't put him in an exclusive category; there were a lot of people Dora would risk everything for. Was R. Alan in this category? Probably. And that girl, Persephone—she definitely was. Anytime R. Alan wanted to reel Dora in, he'd use Persephone as bait.

Dora could be as kind and understanding as she liked, but Tony knew better. Persephone was letting herself be used. Dora had given up on R. Alan, but Persephone had stuck. She'd chosen the wrong side with her eyes wide open. Tony wouldn't soon forgive that.

After a couple of hours on very bad dirt roads, Tony reached the rendezvous. There was Big B, standing motionless. Tony stopped the car, reached over, and gave Dora a little shake. "We're here, Dora."

Dora opened her eyes and smiled sleepily at Tony, melting his heart.

Tony got out and walked towards Big B. Beck appeared from the shadows. He was weary and unhappy.

"Wild goose chase," he said. "Big Tau's flown the coop."

"I thought he was dead."

"He is. Core memory completely destroyed. Somebody must've piloted him out in manual mode. We forgot to lock him down. Damn it to hell! Everything's gone wrong, the last few days."

"Can we track him?"

"Not at night. They did a couple of obvious things to cover their tracks. At dawn, sure. We'll find him. Damn it! Legally, he's salvage. He belongs to whoever took him. I'll be lucky if I can get him back by paying through the nose for him."

A young man was hanging around near them. Beck waved him over. "This is Mitch. He's the partner of Big Tau's Dominus. He's gonna show us where Big Tau came from. There might be some good stuff there." Beck sighed. "Tomorrow. Let's get the tents up. We could all use some rest."

Beck himself would sleep in one of the staterooms in Big B, Tony knew, but he was particular about who he invited there.

Dora drifted up, still sleepy. She gave Beck a smile and a hug, which calmed him noticeably. He said, "Hi, honey. Nice trip?"

"You were mean to Tony."

"I'm sorry, honey." To Tony he said, "No hard feelings, I hope?"

Reluctantly, Tony said, "Forget about it." This was always happening. No matter what enormity Beck had committed, he would get out of it through a simple apology. It wasn't fair. And Tony didn't like the way Dora smiled at Beck. What had Beck ever done for her?

Beck turned back to Dora. "We'll have the tents up in a jiffy, and then you can go back to sleep."

R. Dori appeared, gave Dora and Tony hugs, then put an arm around Beck's waist. He smiled down at her. This completed Tony's black mood. R. Dori had betrayed Beck, and he didn't even care!

"Come on, Dora," said Tony, "You can wait in the car."

"Wait," said R. Dori. "Dora, do you know how to get a message to R. Alan?"

"No," replied Dora, "except by visiting him in the Underground." Then she looked in surprise at Beck and Tony, who were both staring at her sister in deep suspicion.

R. Dori explained, "Roger has a message for him. About a case."

* * *

R. Alan Gabriel looked across the hangar and gloated. Two Megadeuses! Big X still hung limply from his gantry, but Big Tau stood erect in the center of the huge hemispherical space.

It had been so easy! He and Persephone had located the Megadeus, and, much to his surprise, found that he was mostly intact. Oh, there was some trifling battle damage, especially to the transparent throat armor. The head was smashed and the core memory completely destroyed, but it had taken very little work to engage manual control. A human would have found it enormously difficult to walk him more than a few steps, but for a Class M android like R. Alan, it was a delight. They had paid off the men they had hired to help with the salvage and sent them home.

The real surprise had been Persephone's deftness in getting Big Tau ready to move. She had always been quick with the mechanical and electrical work, but R. Alan has supposed she was being guided by Big X. But here she was with a dead Megadeus—no possibility of telepathy—and she worked with as much sureness as ever.

A tedious march cross-country, with time spent to obscure the trail with every crossing of rock or river, and then they'd reached the nearest entrance to the Underground, well outside the city. Big X's hangar shared a transport system with another nearby hangar, currently empty, which apparently had first held a Megadeus R. Alan didn't know—Big Ramses—then, later, Michael Seebach's Big Duo. A quick run underground using the wheeled transporter, and here they were, safe and sound.

Two Megadeuses! What joy!

But only one core memory. Only one reactor. What a pity.

The phone rang. R. Alan drifted towards the nearest extension. Persephone picked it up from inside the apartment. R. Alan could hear both sides of the conversation through the wires.

"Gabriel and Company."

"You still want the cadmium?"

"One moment, please." Persephone put the caller on hold. A moment later, she spotted R. Alan and called, "Hey, Alan! Do we still want the cadmium?"

R. Alan considered. The call would be from the thief. Buying the cadmium from thieves didn't trouble him, except that the original supplier had been reliable, while the thief might try to cheat him. R. Alan had Big Tau's reactor, so he didn't really need the cadmium.

Two Megadeuses!

"Yes, my queen! We want it. Then all we'll need is a core memory." He giggled. "We can pick that up practically anywhere."

Persephone laughed—core memories were unobtainable—and went back to the phone, "Yes, we're still interested."

"You have to pick it up tonight. Get a pencil." The man rattled off an address. "The offer expires at 5 AM." He hung up.

R. Alan had strolled into the room. "What a beastly man! I almost don't want to buy his disgusting cadmium. He has no respect." He then struck a pose with his hand on his heart. "I swear I will not tolerate this treatment! We'll stand him up." He laughed. "He'll be more respectful next time. Besides, I traced the call. We can steal it from him whenever we like. One thief deserves another."

"I thought we were in a bidding war."

"Then we need to steal it before it changes hands. Who knows? Maybe we can get the money, too."

* * *

Beck paced the short corridor on Big B's secondary deck, just below the command deck. He had dark circles under his eyes. His yellow suit was rumpled. He often suffered from insomnia, but tonight his problem was different. He could barely keep his eyes open, but he was afraid to go to bed. He was afraid of what he might say, what he might do. Or, to be honest, what he might be unable to do. The shadow of R. Alan still stood between him and. R. Dori.

"Jason," called R. Dori softly.

"Yeah?"

There was no response. This was so unusual that he hurried, alarmed, into the cramped master bedroom.

She was lying stretched out on the bed, rigid, eyes closed, arms at her side. She was wearing an outfit he didn't know she had, an expensive black dress just like the ones Dorothy wore, correct in every detail, down to the green brooch and soft black shoes.

And, of course, he remembered. This was exactly how she'd looked when they first met, back when he was the Master Criminal and she was a not-quite activated R. Dorothy Wayneright that he'd stolen, that he hoped against hope he could bring to life and be the girl he so desperately needed to love him as much as he loved her. He'd been rumpled and scared and exhausted that night, too.

"Dorothy," he said gently, just as he had before. "Dorothy, it's time to wake up."

She opened her eyes. They grew wide as they focused on him, taking in his weariness. "Jason! Are you all right?"

Abandoning the script, he laughed his horrible cackling laugh. "I am now."

She stood, threw her arms around his neck, and kissed him. He held her tight, as if clinging to the one thing that prevented him from being swept away and lost forever. That's exactly how he thought of her when things got bad, she knew. He was high-strung, subject to every kind of worry and fear, with oceans of guilt lurking just beneath the surface. R. Dori loved this strange, difficult, brilliant man with all her heart, with an intensity that frightened her sometimes; almost as much as he loved her. She'd dealt him a terrible blow when R. Alan had seduced her; she'd stabbed him in the heart, yet here they both were. He believed in her in spite of everything. She was the luckiest girl in the world.

Somehow she communicated this to him without words or even conscious movement, and he responded with more passion than she'd imagined possible in his exhausted state. Much of it was the nostalgic reminder of their first hours together. But some was surely the dress. He'd loved her original dress, but it had been destroyed some time ago.

She pulled him down to the bed, not giving him time to undress or even loosen his tie. For the first time, she kept the dress on while they made love. She was agog at the manly way he took both hands and tried to rip her pantyhose, though as a mere human he lacked the strength. She assisted. And the feel of the pistol in its shoulder holster behind his still-buttoned coat was ... but there were no words. Their cries reverberated off the metal bulkheads.

Afterwards, Beck quickly dropped into a deep sleep, arms around her, every bit of tension gone from his body, while R. Dori remained awake in a happy glow. _This is what true love feels like_. By comparison, her encounter with R. Alan now felt contrived and mechanical; powerful mostly through surprise and the artificial amplification provided by Big B. Tonight, Big B hadn't dared do anything at all. She reminded herself to tell all this to Beck in the morning—but only after a repeat performance!

She needed to thank R. Dorothy for the dress and report that it was a complete success. Yes: that was the best way of confessing that she was never giving it back.

And perhaps they should move the other stateroom to the end of the corridor, or even to another deck. It was a mercy that Beck had refused to invite anyone to sleep there tonight.

* * *

Mitch walked through the open door of the hospital room. There was half an hour to go before evening visiting hours ended.

The room was set up for four patients but held only one. Ricky was dozing in the bed, his left leg in traction, his right arm in a cast almost to the shoulder, his chest and left shoulder tightly bandaged, his left arm in a sling. It was warm in the room and Ricky's covers had been pulled back to the waist. Those parts of him that weren't covered with bandages or plaster were bruised. His face was in better shape. Someone had shaved him, but no one had done anything about his unruly brown hair, which at the moment was obscuring his left eye.

Ricky opened his eyes, or perhaps only the right eye, and focused on Mitch. "Hey," he whispered.

"Hey, yourself," said Mitch. He approached Ricky's bedside. "You look like hell."

Ricky smiled. "Funny, I feel like hell, too."

"So what do the docs say?"

"Oh, they say I'm young, I'll heal, I'll be out in a few weeks and chasing Megadeuses in a couple of months."

"You still game?"

"There's one out there for me, Mitch, I swear it."

Mitch looked away. "I led Beck to the hangar. He poked around for a little while and then left. I don't think he found anything."

"Maybe he didn't want you to see."

"Maybe. He paid me a couple of grand, and said he'd take care of your hospital bills."

"Don't see why."

"He says look him up when you get out. That android girlfriend of his, Dori, she told me to tell you to _please_ look them up."

Ricky raised an eyebrow. "Little old me?"

"The Megadeus picked you, not me, pal. Maybe that means something. Maybe they know it."

Ricky smiled. "I could live with that." His smile faded after a moment, though.

Mitch glanced back through the open doorway. They were still alone. "You okay?"

"Oh, you know. My bones ache, I'm cramped from being in one position all the time, and with both arms out of action I can't do _anything_ for myself, and it's embarrassing." He blinked away tears.

"Somebody gave you a nice shave. Too bad they didn't give you a haircut, too."

"Yeah. It gets in my eyes."

Mitch brushed the hair out of Ricky's eyes.

"Thanks. It was driving me crazy. It's boring here, too. I can't read, there's no radio or TV, and there's no one to talk to."

"I got here as soon as I could."

"I didn't mean that." Changing the subject, he asked, "How's Clarisse?"

"Oh, she's fine. I proposed, she accepted, we're going to set a date sometime soon. But she wants to pick my friends."

"It's been nice knowing you."

"She backed off when I went to bat for you, but I don't think I've heard the end of it. Don't expect any gift baskets from her, and she'll probably manage to keep me from coming here as often as I'd like."

Ricky sighed. "We knew this would happen. Say, have you heard from Persephone? Mom tried to get a message to her, but she moved out of her apartment. Dropped all her classes, too."

"She's around," Mitch reassured him. "People have seen her, talked to her, but no one seems to know where she's staying or what she's doing."

"I wish I could afford a P.I."

Mitch went to pat Ricky on the shoulder, then thought better of it. "I don't even know if a P.I. is expensive. I'll check it out. I'd be a lot happier knowing that she was visiting you every day. I'd have thought she'd have been here already. Maybe she hasn't heard. Most of the news stories didn't mention your name."

"Maybe she doesn't care."

"She's liked you since kindergarten. She'd be here if she knew."

Ricky nodded. "Thanks, pal."

"Don't mention it." Mitch turned to go.

"Hey, Mitch?"

"Yeah?"

"Sorry I screwed everything up. We'd be rich now if I hadn't gone back."

"Yeah, like you had a choice. Forget about it. Take it easy, buddy."

As he left, he thought about Persephone. She and Ricky had always been pals, and she was a bright, responsible girl. She'd spend time with Ricky if she knew. Mitch swore under his breath. He ought to be doing that! He and Ricky had always been partners. He'd never seen Ricky so depressed. Damn Clarisse, anyway! Her timing really stank.

* * *

"Here we are," said Roger. They had climbed back up to the subway level. An access panel had been removed from a telephone wiring cabinet and a cable spilled out of it, crossed the tunnel floor, and vanished into the wall at floor level.

"There's an elevator here," said Dorothy. She pressed the concealed call button. After a while, the concealed door opened and revealed a perfectly ordinary freight elevator, a little scarred and battered inside. The cable disappeared down the narrow gap between elevator car and the door.

Roger looked at the car suspiciously. He pulled the "Door Open" knob, then jumped for the access hatch at the top of the elevator car. He couldn't reach it.

Dorothy cupped her hands. "Thanks," said Roger, putting a foot in her hands. She boosted him effortlessly. He lifted the hatch and looked around, squinting in the gloom.

"There's an emergency ladder and everything," he reported. "The shaft looks okay and the cable looks fine." He replaced the hatch. Dorothy lowered him, and he wiped the cable grease off his hands with his handkerchief. He smiled. "Shall we?"

Dorothy nodded. The floors were numbered "B1" through "B10." They were at level "B1." Dorothy returned the "Door Open" knob and pressed "B2."

The elevator moved down smoothly and soon the doors opened. They looked out on the eerie Underground corridor they had occupied moments before. The phone cable continued down the elevator shaft. Dorothy pressed "B3."

This corridor was similar to B2, but the light was dimmer. The phone cable stretched away down the corridor. Roger and Dorothy followed it. Soon they passed an archway into an enormous hemispherical chamber, clad in gleaming copper sheets. They were on a walkway partway up the dome. They had never been in this chamber before. Roger walked to the rail and looked out. A Megadeus was stretched out, spread-eagled, on the floor. Its torso armor had been removed, exposing the gleaming golden globe of the reactor in its belly. The access hatch had been opened. A cable from a crane disappeared inside.

Roger heard a strange, high-pitched gasp behind him, and then a thud. He spun around. Two men were standing there. One, a youngish, slim man with short black hair and a goatee, stood next to Dorothy's unconscious form. He held an electric cattle prod. The other, a muscular middle-aged man with mad, pale eyes, held a double-barreled shotgun. It was pointed at Roger's midriff. Roger vibrated with anger, enraged by the sight of Dorothy's unconscious form, fists clenched, barely able to hold himself back. But there was no arguing with a shotgun, and the man holding it seemed more than a little crazed. Even a _pro forma_ protest might convince him to pull the trigger.

The first man put away his cattle prod and took a small glass jar out of his coat pocket. He pulled out a reeking cloth and, without a word, placed it over Roger's nose and mouth, careful not to block his partner's line of fire. There nothing Roger could do. The smell of chloroform filled Roger's lungs, and soon he knew no more.

* * *

Roger woke slowly, feeling ill. He opened his eyes, to see Dorothy gazing down at him. His head was cradled on her lap.

He sat up suddenly, then held his head in his hands. "What a headache!" he said.

"I see your physiological responses are back to normal," said Dorothy.

Roger smiled. "Yours, too."

"We're in a hole in the ground. The walls are steel. I can't get out."

Roger looked up. They were in a cylindrical shaft about twenty feet deep and eight feet in diameter. There was nothing in the shaft at all. "How inconsiderate," he said. They could at least have left us a magazine."

"What happened?" asked Dorothy.

"They got you with a cattle prod and gave me a whiff of chloroform while they held a shotgun on me," said Roger. "It was very quick. They knew exactly what to do. Too bad all their work will be for nothing." He pulled back his sleeve, intending to call Big O.

His watch wasn't there.

He glanced at Dorothy.

"I can't raise Big O, either," she said. "This area must be shielded."

"Well, it won't take the others long to find us, anyway."

He looked around their prison, banging on the walls and floor. It seemed to be made out of thick steel.

"How high can you jump?" he asked.

Dorothy demonstrated. Roger whistled. "Amazing."

"Not amazing enough."

He circled their prison, looking up, and said, "What do you think is at the top?"

"I have no idea."

"How high can you throw me?"

She looked up at the wall, then at him.

"I'm fine," he lied. His headache was killing him, and nausea wasn't far behind. He hoped he wasn't visibly pale or shaking.

Dorothy then cupped her hands. "Let's try it and see."

He put a foot in her cupped hands. "Now the other one," she said.

He put his hands on top of her head to steady himself, put his weight on the foot she was holding, and stood up. He put one foot on top of the other. Dorothy didn't show the slightest sign of strain and stood as steady as a rock.

"Okay," said Roger. "If you can, toss me so I graze the wall just as I reach the top. And catch me on the way down if I don't make it. On the count of three. One … two … three!"

Dorothy heaved him up. He was flying! He rose and rose, his hands held above him.

Not high enough. Eighteen inches separated his fingertips from the top of the shaft. He began to fall.

Uh-oh, he though. It was easy enough to tell Dorothy to catch him, but could she do it? His mind was filled with interesting ways to land wrong, or be caught wrong.

In the event though, he fell feet-first, and she simply held out her arms as he came down, swept his legs out from under him as he went by, and caught him with one arm under his knees and the other around his chest. She clasped him to her and broke his fall by going down on one knee, spreading the deceleration across a foot or two of fall rather than having it happen all at once on the steel deck.

He rolled away from her—it hurt where she held him—got to his feet, staggered a little, and said, "Thanks."

He was dizzy and nauseated, but paid no attention, "This might work if you can toss me a couple of feet higher."

"That was the best I can do."

"Do you have any surprises saved up?"

"No."

"Well, let's inventory our possessions and see if any of this might be useful."

Roger turned out his pockets. He had a billfold containing two credit cards, some money, and some business cards; a notebook; a fountain pen concealing a lock pick; a black silk handkerchief; a pocket knife; a comb; and a ring with six keys. He had his clothing: Black suit, white shirt, black and white tie, belt, shirt, socks, shoes, black gloves, and black silk boxers. Two cufflinks. His flashlight had gone astray. No watch.

Dorothy's pockets contained a comb, a white cotton handkerchief, and a ring of five keys. She wore a black dress, white cuffs, a jabot with a green brooch, shoes, black pantyhose, and a black bra.

Roger surveyed the list glumly. "In stories, the heroes always find something clever to do with stuff like this."

Dorothy couldn't think of anything, either. Possibly they could make a slingshot out of the elastic in her bra or a sling out of her pantyhose, and loft some of their remaining possessions out of the prison, but what would be the point? Even if they could make a rope out of their clothing, it would be too heavy to heave out by such means, and they had nothing to use as a grapnel. Worse, their limited view out of the prison showed nothing for a grapnel to hook onto.

After a while, with nothing better to do, and his chloroform-induced headache still pounding away, Roger stretched out on the floor, his head on Dorothy's lap. He smiled up at her. Words seemed unnecessary. Then he closed his eyes. Soon he was asleep.

Dorothy sat quietly, calm but alert. If something happened, she would be ready for it.

* * *

"Hi, Norman," said Angel, walking into the kitchen. "Is Roger around?"

"No, miss. He and Miss Dorothy are out on a case."

"When do you expect them back?"

"I couldn't say." He glanced at the clock, hesitated, then opened a cupboard, revealing a picture phone console. He pressed a button and listened for several seconds. He pressed a second button and spoke into the microphone. "Master Roger."

There was no reply.

Norman turned a knob to a new position. Numbers appeared on the screen. He wrote them down on a piece of paper.

Angel snatched it from his hand. "You stay here. I'll find them."

"Very good, miss."

According to the coordinates, Roger was in a shopping district outside the dome, above ground. Nevertheless, Angel decided to bring a few things with her. She went to her room and threw open her wardrobe, meaning to grab the purse with her pistol and a few odds and ends. Her eye was drawn to what Roger called her "lady spy outfits."

"Why not?" she said, reaching for a pink leather catsuit.

* * *

Tony was working late, catching up on his paperwork. There were footsteps outside his office, but he didn't look up.

"Hi, Tony," said Persephone cheerfully.

What are _you_ doing here?" He asked, suspicious and annoyed. Her smile vanished; she looked as if he had slapped her.

There was a security guard with her. He said, "Hey, Tony, do you know where Dora is?"

Tony wished he had the nerve to claim that she had left. "Squaring away the electronics bench, I think." He sighed. "I'll escort her, Ted."

Ted nodded and left.

Tony wordlessly led Persephone across to the electronics bench, where Dora had half a dozen oscilloscope probes laid out. She was soldering a connector onto one of them. The tip of her tongue protruded as she concentrated. She was so adorable! It was too bad she had no taste in friends. Tony wouldn't trust Persephone as far as he could throw her.

She finished and looked up. "Persephone!" She put down the soldering iron and gave Persephone a hug.

Tony looked on with disapproval. Persephone was in league with the enemy. He didn't like Dora's obvious pleasure at seeing her, didn't like the way a weight seemed to lift from Persephone's shoulders, didn't like the way the hug went on so long.

Dora let go and took a step back. "Have you eaten?"

"No."

"Tony will take us out to dinner."

Tony groped for an excuse. "I really need to keep working," he said. Then he realized that he didn't want Persephone alone with Dora. Who knew what she was up to? But the moment had passed. He'd look like an idiot changing his mind without prompting. Still, he had let her out of his sight once, and look what had happened. "You should have an escort," he said. "Take Ted."

Dora glared at him. Tony said, "Never mind. I'd be delighted to take the two of you to dinner."

Dora shook her head. "Not this time." She gave him a brief hug, whispering "You're my friend, not my keeper, okay?"

Then Dora took Persephone's hand and the girls departed.

Tony returned to his office, angry with himself. He couldn't concentrate. The paperwork seemed to be laughing at him.

* * *

Angel swore. Norman had called to inform her that Roger had moved but had not responded to communications. Angel was now at the new position, a loading dock at one of the branch offices of the Paradigm Post Office. She checked the coordinates with Norman once more, and was now examining the exact spot. Wearing her pink woolen overcoat over her catsuit, she looked stylish and hardly like a lady spy at all.

In front of her was a bin of unsorted mail.

A postal employee came up, "Hey! What are you doing!"

She smiled brightly at him and pulled out one of her cards, which identified her as a "Security Consultant." "Are you going to sort this mail soon?" she asked.

"Well, yes, but…"

"Do it now."

Two postal employees wheeled the bin into the sorting room, where they dumped it out. Angel used her own watch to call Roger repeatedly, producing a muffled beeping from somewhere in the mail. She quickly tracked it down to a lumpy envelope. "This is mine," she said.

"You need a warrant for that!"

"What was your name again?" she asked.

He hesitated. Paradigm was pretty much run on a law-and-order basis now, more or less, but it paid to be cautious. He didn't really believe what her business card said, but didn't want to investigate, either—it might be dangerous—and he certainly didn't want to give his name! He said. "I forbid you to touch that envelope. Now if you'll excuse me a minute, I have to answer the phone." He turned her back on her and left the room. She put the envelope into her overcoat pocket and left in the opposite direction.

Back at her car, she called Norman and told him the news.

* * *

In Dora's car, Persephone said glumly, "Alan wants me to seduce you." When Dora didn't reply, she went on, "He says that I should try it on my own, but bring you home to him for a threesome if that seems like a good idea, or maybe see if Dori is interested, and don't forget Beck."

Dora said, "This must be hard on you."

"I handed him the Paradigm phone directory and asked him to cross off any names he found totally unacceptable. He laughed."

Dora smiled. "Tell him I've sworn off physical relationships for a while. Until my head stops spinning, at least."

Persephone, who was snuggled up against Dora and was holding her right hand while Dora steered left-handed, asked, "How physical?"

"This is fine."

"How about first base? Please?"

"Anything up to but not including first base," said Dora firmly.

Persephone turned her face away, "I know what you're thinking. Alan must be really bad for me if I need someone else so desperately." Actually, Persephone was afraid Dora was thinking far worse things than that.

Dora did not reply. She pulled into a parking space in front of the restaurant she'd selected. "Here we are," she said.

* * *

R. Alan hummed to himself as he strolled through the Underground. Persephone was taking the evening off to visit friends, and that was good! R. Alan was tracking down the cadmium, and had no idea what he'd do when he found it. Persephone didn't like plunging into danger without a plan.

He was in no hurry. At one point he found a short piece of pipe and used it to trace a hopscotch outline. His android reflexes were good, but it became a challenge if he spun around three times and did the whole thing with his eyes closed.

Eventually, he reached the point where the phone call had been made. Look! There was the cable! And three sets of tracks. One set, carefully obscured, must have been made by the person who installed the cable. The other two … he laughed. They must be from Roger Smith and R. Dorothy Wayneright. Dorothy had the most darling little feet! And Roger … R. Alan was torn. He loved feet. If he had the choice, whose toes would he play with first?

There was a soft metallic sound behind him; the safety being released on a pistol.

"Alan Gabriel!" said a woman's voice.

R. Alan turned. Oh, what joy! It was darling Angel! And she'd come to play! She was wearing her pink leather jumpsuit. It was so slutty, he wanted to squeal with delight. She was pointing a pistol at him—an ugly, black automatic, very masculine—and looking at him with loathing.

He grinned at her. "Sneaky kitty! I've missed you so much!"

"Don't give me that crap, Alan. I ought to shoot you right now."

"Oh," breathed R. Alan, "you should. You should!" He threw out his arms, "Shoot me in the heart that longs for you so desperately!"

Angel looked disgusted. This excited R. Alan. He was indifferent to Angel's smile, but her negative feelings were powerful turn-ons. He took a step forward.

"Don't come any closer," said Angel.

"Or you'll shoot? Oh, poor Angel. Poor, sweet, innocent Angel," said R. Alan. "You've never shot anyone, have you?" He took another step forward. "It bothers you, sometimes. I can tell. 'Other people kill, why not me? Is there something wrong with me?'"

"Shut up."

"It's all right, Angel. Shoot me! You know you want to. We're all alone. No one will know. You can say I forced you!" He laughed again.

"I mean it, Alan! Stop right there!"

"Just think how it will _feel,"_ he said, softly. "All that rage bottled up inside, released all at once. Think of the passion bursting forth from your gun! The harsh feel of the trigger, the kick of the gun in your faintly trembling hand, the report, the sharp smell of gunpowder. Oh, Angel! Is there anything more erotic than the smell of gunpowder?"

"Stop it!"

He took another step forward. "And the bullets slamming into my perfect android body, one after the other. Destroying me. Will you kill me quick, or make it last? Imagine the _sound_ it will make. And look how close we're standing!" He laughed and laughed, producing ghastly echoes. "You'll be spattered with my shards!"

Angel had closed her eyes. She was shaking. She opened them suddenly, eyes ablaze, but the look faded as she realized that she couldn't pull the trigger. She looked miserable.

"Poor Angel," said R. Alan. His chest was almost touching the gun barrel. He reached out his index finger and raised the barrel slowly. Then he gently kissed the end of the barrel. With his eyes locked on Angel's, he licked the length of the pistol. When his tongue stroked her fingers, she shuddered and took a step back.

"Damn you, Alan!" she said. "What have you done with Roger and Dorothy?"

"Me? Nothing!"

"Then why are you here? You've scuffed your nice shoes."

He looked down, and realized to his horror that it was true. He'd been seen in scuffed shoes! It ruined his victory. Then he brightened. No, it _took the shine off_ his victory! Grinning broadly, R. Alan indicated the phone line. "A nasty man tried to sell me some stolen cadmium. One thief deserves another."

Angel considered him coldly. She glanced past him along his fresh footprints in the dust, the only ones on his side of the corridor, and the three sets on her side, one of which was hers. R. Alan could almost hear her thinking about how difficult it was for an android to attack a human, or tell a direct lie. Not impossible; oh no! But difficult, so very difficult. She scowled, holstered her pistol, and wiped her hand on her jumpsuit. In a hard voice, she said, "Roger and Dorothy came here on the same mission and haven't been heard of since."

"A rescue! I'll be their knight in shining armor!"

"Get lost, Alan. I'm doing this alone."

"Shoot me!"

She sighed, defeated. "Come along, then."

"That's a good girl. There's just one thing." He reached out to the big brass ring on the partly unzipped zipper on her catsuit. She jumped back with a cry, but he was too quick for her. He zipped it all the way to her throat, then patted her on the cheek. "Let's not look like a tramp, shall we?"

* * *

Dora pulled into a parking space at the hospital. Persephone got out, then hesitated. "Do you want to come inside? I'm sure Ricky would like to meet you."

"Next time."

Persephone plunged back into the car and gave Dora a hug. "Thanks for listening."

"Remember what I said."

Persephone laughed. "Oh, I will!" She walked quickly to the entrance, not looking back. She'd told Dora everything over dinner: salvaging Big Tau, the cadmium, that she knew Ricky, how she'd lied to R. Alan and said she didn't know him, her fear of getting Ricky mixed up in things, her confusion about what side she was on.

Dora had described her own philosophy in a few words. Persephone couldn't quite grasp its essence. It seemed to consist of a transcendental stubbornness motivated by love. But her main point was that you didn't have to choose sides and you didn't have to assign blame. Dora didn't have to choose sides just because Beck hated R. Alan while Persephone loved him; she'd take care of Beck _and_ Persephone—and even help R. Alan if she could. And many things that people imagined were a package deal simply weren't. Just because R. Alan was Persephone's boyfriend didn't mean Persephone had to do what he said. That was her decision.

At the moment, all this made perfect sense to Persephone and she felt empowered. She was going to take action before she reverted to form. And she'd known Ricky since she was five. She was a lot more confident, a lot more comfortable with him than with most people.

She took the steps two at a time. Soon she was in the doorway of Ricky's hospital room, a little breathless.

There he was, his leg in traction, staring sadly at the ceiling. Persephone lounged against the doorway and said, "You lazy bum. I'll bet you haven't been out of bed in days."

His face lit up. "Persephone!" His delight dazzled her.

She felt her answering grin. "That's me." She crossed over to his bedside and kissed him on the cheek. "I'd give you a hug, but I might break you."

"Did you get my message?" he asked, smiling, pleased by the kiss.

"Sorry, I'm hard to get hold of, these days."

"You got that right. Where have you been?"

"It's a long story. I'll tell you in a minute. Are you going to be okay, Ricky? Do you need anything?"

"Company. Friends. Other than that, well, they say I'll heal okay, and Beck paid my hospital bills."

Persephone nodded. "I can be here most days. Maybe not every day."

"It won't get you in trouble?"

She brushed the hair out of his eyes. "Not me. You, maybe."

"You have a boyfriend who's gonna beat me up?"

She shook her head. "If only it were that simple. Are you okay right now? Glass of water, maybe?"

"I'm fine."

"Then listen."

She told him everything.

When she finished he said, "Wow."

"What do you think?" It had been an enormous relief to get it off her chest, but she was sure that her story made her look like an idiot and a tramp. Would he still like her?

He shook his head. "Just … wow." He was silent for a moment, then smiled at her. "Can you really see me almost every day?"

She laughed, delighted, relieved. "Don't be ridiculous. Of course I can! You're a Dominus. Alan will want me to win you over. Seduce you."

"Hey, give it your best shot."

"He may try it himself."

Ricky's face went blank. "Tell him not to bother."

"Okay."

After another pause he said, "I never expected any of this. I'm a true Dominus, and I have been before, in another life."

She nodded.

He continued, "Yes have a special role, too, don't you?"

"Yes. I'm a natural Megadeus mechanic, like Norman Burg. I don't know about the past lives part."

He shook his head in wonder.

"Ricky?" she asked in a small voice.

"Yeah?"

"You don't mind that, that, that I … ?"

"Remember that guy you dated, your junior year?"

"Oh, god, don't remind me!"

"Alan has money, talent, looks, experience, a Megadeus ... At least, this time, you have an _excuse."_

She laughed, then turned serious. "What about Dora?"

"Doesn't count," he said firmly.

She reached over and brushed the hair out of his eyes again. "Thanks."

"What are friends for? Anyway, you've always stood by me."

* * *

The wall split, revealing the elevator car.

Angel bristled, "If you think I'm getting into that, you're crazy!"

"Roger and Dorothy did," said R. Alan.

"And they're missing! They could have died in there!"

"And did Roger's ghost drop his watch into the mailbox?"

"It could've been taken off him after he … I'm not going in there, Alan!"

R. Alan glanced at the cable, headed down. "Is there a ladder?"

"This way."

* * *

Roger sat up. "Which headband are you wearing?"

"The one that makes me invisible to Megadeuses."

"Is that one of Beck's or one of Norman's?"

"They're all Beck's. Norman has the plans, but hasn't made any."

"Are you sure there isn't any escape equipment in it? I thought Dori was loaded with stuff like that."

"I never asked." She unclipped the false hairband that covered the slot in her forehead. Her eyes suddenly went very wide. "Oh!"

"Dorothy!" Roger slapped the hairband back into place. He took her by the shoulders and shook her. "Dorothy! Snap out of it!"

Dorothy closed her eyes for a moment and then opened them again. "Thank you."

"What happened?"

"There's a Megadeus. Very close. He is ready to be activated. All he needs is an android, willing or no."

"I wonder if those two guys know that."

Dorothy didn't answer. They both stared up at the top of their prison, twenty feet above.

* * *

Angel found level B3 without any difficulty. An archway revealed a short corridor that opened onto a broad walkway circling a large hemispherical chamber. She crept cautiously down the corridor, with R. Alan sauntering silently behind. She reached the end of the corridor and bent forward to take a cautious peek. If she hadn't known what to expect from R. Alan, she would have screamed when he put both hands on her butt.

They heard footsteps approaching. Two men were talking. They stopped almost within view.

"I can't believe Gabriel stood us up," said one. "He was on fire for that cadmium."

"Doesn't matter now. Waste of time. We should have stood _him_ up."

"Tell me again. How are we gonna activate it?"

"We're almost there. Let's get the last of the torso armor back on before we try anything else."

"You thought it was going to wake up as soon as you put the reactor on-line."

"Will you shut up? I just hoped, okay? Now that some of the controls are working, maybe we can figure it out."

"Maybe we should just sell it to Beck. Take the easy money."

"We'll get a lot more if we can make it walk around. Come on, I need a beer."

The two walked off. Angel swore inwardly. Amateurs! Well, to hell with them. They couldn't activate a Megadeus unaided in a million years.

She peeked out into the chamber and saw the two disappear into another side corridor.

Angel crossed the walkway and looked down over the rail. Below her was a Megadeus, lying on the floor. It seemed complete except for a couple of torso armor plates. Through the gap, she could see the golden gleam of the reactor, its access hatch bolted in place.

Where were Roger and Dorothy? Angel adjusted her watch, which had the same functions as Roger's, including the ability to track their other watches, and Dorothy as well. Since she and Dorothy were both on the same side of the dome's shielding, she got a fix easily enough. Up that side corridor off the main floor, or maybe a level below it.

"Come on, Alan," said Angel.

No response. "Alan?"

R. Alan had vanished.

"Good riddance," muttered Angel. She vaulted the rail, landing on the cab of a crane a few feet below. Another jump took her to its caterpillar treads. Soon she was running across the main floor.

She reached the corridor without incident. It was empty except for a shaft sunk into the floor; a storage tank, perhaps. If Dorothy were in there, it would explain why her position had been reported as below floor level.

A familiar yet unwelcome noise made her turn around; the Megadeus had just activated. The lights on its face were blinking furiously as it sat up. In the distance, Angel heard an inhuman scream. R. Alan was walking towards it like a badly operated marionette, his eyes wide with fear. His mouth was gabbling data at the Megadeus.

Suddenly, the Megadeus snatched R. Alan and lifted him up to its throat hatch. The gabble of data had stopped. R. Alan was now talking rapidly, shaking his head, trying to convince the Megadeus to let him go. The probe cables reached out like tentacles and pulled him to the command chair. The throat hatch snapped shut.

The Megadeus seemed more alert, more alive now. Its attention was drawn to two men who appeared on the hangar floor, calling to it. The Megadeus slowly got to its feet. The two men ran towards it, shouting. Slowly, deliberately, the Megadeus lifted its foot and brought it down on the nearest man, then twisted the foot as if snuffing out a cigarette butt. It raised its foot again. The second man was running pell-mell for the nearest side tunnel, but he wasn't fast enough. He was stamped in his turn.

The Megadeus' head snapped towards Angel. She could feel its malevolent intelligence. She turned and ran. Surely there was a way out of this corridor!

There wasn't; it was a dead end. She was safe from being stepped on, but the Megadeus threw itself prone and reached an arm down the corridor. Damn these wide corridors, anyway! The Megadeus' questing hand sped towards Angel like an express train. She jumped screaming into the open shaft.

She found herself cradled in Dorothy's arms. This was so unexpected that she wondered if she were dreaming.

Dorothy set her down immediately, and the Megadeus' arm was still overhead, reaching, searching, knocking concrete from the ceiling, with pieces up to fist-sized raining down into their prison. Through some miracle, its fingers failed to discover the shaft, and soon it withdrew.

Angel looked around. No one seemed hurt. She listened. After a couple of minutes of relative silence, she heard the familiar whine of a wheeled Megadeus transport system, which soon faded away. They were alone.

Dorothy asked, "Another blind date?"

Angel, still shaken, just shook her head and sank to the floor. It was going to be a few minutes before she was up to repartee. Right now, she just felt drained; too tired even to weep.

* * *

The throat hatch shut behind R. Alan as the probe cables lashed him to the command seat. His forehead tray extended despite his efforts, and the ends of the probe cables rammed home. R. Alan screamed.

The Megadeus was so far gone that it didn't have a name or even a gender. It had lost its humanity and most of its emotions; all but a smoldering malevolence. R. Alan was nothing to it; an accessory, a subassembly. It could act on its own with an android on board. That didn't mean it had to listen to him.

It wanted a Dominus, too, to complete the set. It wouldn't listen to _him_ , either.

R. Alan hated and feared his own robotic side. Androids, like Megadeuses, had a tendency to go insane, robotic, mechanical. R. Alan clung to his humanity, his emotions, his hormones, even his all-too-human neuroses. This Megadeus found this distasteful, and would snuff them out if had the chance, just to keep R. Alan's thoughts from distracting it.

R. Alan writhed. It was all his nightmares rolled into one. He'd never escape on his own. Who would help poor Alan? He thought of Persephone. Perhaps. She had a touching loyalty. R. Dori? Beck would hold her back. Dora? She was a child. Angel? R. Dorothy? None of them would lift a finger for him. He didn't deserve it.

And the cables had been greasy. His beautiful suit was ruined!

These thoughts took almost no time at all, and then R. Alan was wrenched into the present as the Megadeus raised its foot and deliberately stamped on a fleeing man.

R. Alan screamed again, a shrill sound. Its mocking, metallic echoes made him shudder. Megadeuses were inhibited from killing, just like androids. They could only kill if their Dominus approved. This Megadeus was delusional, and pretended—believed—that the orders were coming from R. Alan. The feedback from the probe cables meant that R. Alan briefly believed this, too, and his inner compulsions punished him.

The Megadeus killed the other fleeing man. Through his agony, R. Alan felt a flash of pleasure from the Megadeus. It liked killing.

Now the Megadeus caught sight of Sneaky Kitty fleeing pell-mell. R. Alan whimpered. He loved Angel and also feared her without knowing why. He tried to stop the Megadeus, reason with it, distract it, sabotage it, but it wasn't paying any attention. He raised a flicker of annoyance; that was all.

R. Alan thought hard about Big O and Big B, powerful, fully armed Megadeuses that worked together, and their friend Big Alpha who would join them in an emergency. He thought about the chromebusters and other new weapons of the Military Police. He concentrated on the fact that here, not far underneath Paradigm, they were surrounded by enemies. Their activity would be noted. Time to get out. The Wasteland was so large, so empty. They would be safe. They had to leave right away; drop everything and leave now!

The Megadeus withdrew its arm from the tunnel, abandoning its quest for Angel's life. One human more or less didn't matter. They would escape to the Wasteland and then plan their quest for a Dominus. Preferably one who didn't talk all the time and wasn't disgustingly over-sexed.

The transport system was in perfect working order. Soon they were underway.

* * *

Angel sighed. She held out a hand and Roger hoisted her to her feet. Normally she would have flung herself into his arms, but right now it seemed like too much trouble.

"Hard day?" asked Roger. He squeezed her hand before letting go, for which she was grateful. She could let her mask slip with Roger and it was okay.

"Yeah," she said. She leaned against the wall of the shaft and said. "I have your watch. Those bozos sent it by mail so we'd have some fun chasing it." She handed it to him.

Roger accepted it, smiling, then asked, "You okay, Angel?"

Still reeling from the horror of seeing those two men killed, but unwilling to talk about it yet, she settled for saying, "That Megadeus just kidnapped R. Alan Gabriel."

"I wondered how it managed to power up so quickly," said Roger cheerfully, putting on his watch. "Do you have any ideas about getting us out of here?"

Angel had recovered a little. She found Roger's confidence comforting. Also, his hair was disheveled; she loved that. Still, she didn't find her smile until the second try. "It just so happens …" She opened her belt pouch and pulled out something that looked like a hockey puck. "Electromagnet." She took a rod out of the pouch and screwed it into the center of the electromagnet. She removed the clip from her pistol, worked the slide to eject the round from the chamber, and put the round back into the clip. Then she pulled out another clip, slapped it in, and worked the slide. "Blanks." She pulled a spool out of her pouch. "Cord." She attached the spool to an attachment under the barrel of her pistol, set a couple of switches on the electromagnet, and stuck its shaft down the barrel. She took aim and fired. The electromagnet struck the wall of the shaft about six inches from the top.

"Dorothy's probably best for this next part," said Angel.

As Roger and Angel watched, Dorothy swarmed up the cord, stuck one hand over the lip of the shaft, and vaulted onto the floor of the corridor.

Angel smiled at Roger and said, "All black is a fashion blunder. She should wear white panties to make it worth your while."

Dorothy pretended not to have heard. She called down, "Put a loop in the cord and I'll haul you up."

Angel came up first, then Roger. Angel retrieved her electromagnet and respooled the cord. Then, wordlessly, they moved quickly to the elevator, skirting two red smears that had once been men.

Roger pressed the elevator's call button, then said, "My client! I forgot all about him!"

Angel laughed. "Then who's going to sign your check, Mister Negotiator? You call Norman; I'll look around."

"I'll come, too," said Dorothy. She and Angel turned around and ran back into the hangar.

Roger took the elevator up one level. His watch lit, showing that he was beyond the shielding and had a signal. He spoke into his watch, "What's happening, Norman?"

"Master Roger, it's good to hear from you at last! A Megadeus has appeared at the edge of town and is moving rapidly towards the Wasteland. Mr. Beck has already been alerted to its presence."

"That Megadeus just kidnapped R. Alan Gabriel," said Roger.

"Indeed sir. It has my heartfelt sympathy."

"Is it causing any damage?

"None to speak of, sir."

Dorothy and Angel had retrieved Roger's client from the living quarters of the two men. He looked rumpled and unhappy but unharmed.

Roger brought the two women up to date. Then he asked Dorothy, "What will happen if we let the Megadeus go?"

"I have no idea."

"Can we make it give Alan back?"

Dorothy looked at Angel, who shrugged. "Beck might know," said Dorothy.

* * *

"What? Are you crazy?" shouted Beck into the telephone. "No, I'm not going to rescue Alan Gabriel. What kind of an idiot do you think I am? If his damned Megadeus causes trouble, okay, we'll kill it. That's our job. And I suppose we can make an effort to pull Alan out of there alive. Otherwise, good riddance. I hope they're very happy together." He slammed down the receiver. "Jerk."

R. Dori was standing behind him. She said nothing.

Without turning around, Beck said, "Stop looking at me like that." When she didn't reply he said, "I hate Alan Gabriel! I hate what he's done to this family. I hate what he's done to you."

She put her arms around him.

"I'm not rescuing him," he said.

"I haven't asked you to. But if you don't, someone else will."

He stiffened. "I hadn't thought of that." Maintaining their monopoly on Class M androids was essential in preventing anyone but their friends from activating otherwise comatose Megadeuses. Even a nut job like R. Alan Gabriel would be worth his weight in diamonds to their enemies. "Damn it to hell!"

But the Megadeus had vanished. After making a thorough search in Big B, Beck returned home and declined to look further.

* * *

Persephone was talking quietly to Ricky—he was tired and in pain, so they were talking of inconsequential things—when she realized that they were no longer alone. Dora was in the doorway.

Persephone looked from Dora to Ricky and back again. She said, "He knows everything."

"Alan has been kidnapped by a rogue Megadeus."

A horrible, sharp smell filled her nostrils and a woman's voice said, "Wake up, dear." Persephone was lying in one of the other hospital beds in Ricky's room. A nurse was waving a bottle of smelling salts under her nose.

"What happened?" asked Persephone. She instantly felt embarrassed by her clichéd question and the inevitable clichéd response.

"You fainted, dear. Just lie there for a few minutes before you try to get up." She departed.

"Sorry." She tried to gather her wits. Dora came over and held her hand, which embarrassed Persephone anew. Not in front of Ricky!

Dora said, "Alan's been kidnapped by a rogue Megadeus. The Megadeus killed two treasure-hunters and left town. We don't know its name."

"Is it one of the crazy ones?"

"Yes. Angel watched it kill the treasure-hunters, and she says it enjoyed it."

"We have to save Alan!"

"Roger and Jason have already refused. We don't expect to hear from Will and R. Emily for six days."

"Oh, if only Big X were working!"

Ricky groaned, "What a time for me to be in traction!"

Persephone got to her feet, still feeling just a little light-headed, and crossed over to Ricky. She kissed him on the forehead. "It would be great to have you at the controls when we rescue Alan." She turned to Dora. "Do you have a plan?"

"Yes. Big X will accept me as a temporary Dominus."

This was news to Persephone, but wasn't it academic? "But he's so badly damaged! Just moving the reactor will take forever, and there's his leg, too!"

"We'll move Big X's core memory into Big Tau."

Persephone gasped. Of course! It was much simpler that way. "How long will it take?"

"A week."

"Anything could happen in a week! If that Megadeus causes trouble, they'll kill it, and Alan, too!"

"We'll get more people. Tony will be glad to help."

 **[To Be Continued]**


	3. Act 42: Negotiation, Mobility, and Siege

**Act 42: Negotiation, Mobility, and Siege**

by A Clockwork Tomato

* * *

Heralded only by the faint jingle of brass curtain rings, daylight stabbed into Roger Smith's brain. He pulled the covers over his head for a moment, then sat up angrily, squinting and holding up a hand to ward off the harsh midmorning light.

"R. Dorothy Wayneright!" he bellowed. He hated being awakened abruptly; she knew that.

"Good morning, Roger." She was dressed as usual in one of her black dresses and held a tray; she was going to serve him breakfast in bed.

Roger sighed. She was going to be nice about it, but something was up; she was in a hurry. Roger forbade discussing business until after breakfast; hence the tray. She was rushing him. Something was wrong.

She offered him a cup of black coffee, which he took in both hands. It was cooler than usual. He took the hint and drained the cup. Another time-saver. She refilled the cup with scalding-hot coffee. Good. There _were_ limits.

She positioned the breakfast tray on his bed and removed the covers. Bacon, eggs, toast, marmalade; the usual. As he ate, he gazed at her. She looked back steadily and said nothing.

"How was your night?" he asked, fishing for clues.

She wasn't going to give him any. "Uneventful," she said, topping off his coffee again.

He smiled; he couldn't help it. She was adorable even when she was rushing him. She did not smile back; she rarely smiled. But their eyes met and something for which there were no words passed between them. He resumed eating, still smiling. When he finished he said, "All right, Dorothy. What's the hurry?"

She removed the tray from the bed before answering. "Dora and Persephone have a plan for rescuing R. Alan."

Roger rolled his eyes. It was hard to take Dora seriously; her plans were so much bigger than she was. And Persephone was a pleasant and capable girl, but she seemed, well, too _ordinary_ for that kind of adventure.

Dorothy continued, "They are going to move Big X's core memory into Big Tau's body."

Roger sat bolt upright. "That's not possible!"

Dorothy said nothing.

Roger subsided. "Well, maybe it's possible. But it's wrong." He suppressed a shudder. It was like scooping out someone's brain and plopping it into a fresh corpse. Big Tau's core memory was destroyed, but his body was intact, while Big X was in almost the opposite condition.

If you thought of Megadeuses as big machines, robots, then it made perfect sense. But that would be wrong. A Megadeus was a person, just as much a person as an android like R. Dorothy Wayneright, or even a human.

He said, "I don't care what anyone says. Big Tau is haunted. And it doesn't have anything to do with the core memory."

"Yes, I felt it, too."

"Can we stop them?"

"Perhaps you can negotiate with them."

"I think I'd better. I can't believe your little sister is going to cannibalize a Megadeus!"

"Cannibalize?"

"I think that's the right word. How's Beck taking all this?"

"He's afraid to fight with Dora, so he's furious at Tony for agreeing to help her."

"Tony's with her? Good. He'll drag his feet."

"I don't think he will."

"Maybe you're right—he's under Dora's spell. Well, what do we do next?"

"Visit them right away and offer our support."

Roger smiled, "and tell Beck that we've done so, so he doesn't go storming in and make a fool of himself."

Dorothy didn't reply, but he knew she agreed.

* * *

Wayne Douglas, formerly a Paradigm Senator but now the Grand Dominus of the Liberation Army, crept into the hemispherical Megadeus chamber. It had been almost a week since he'd heard from his two Megadeus mechanics, and he couldn't wait any longer.

Some of the overhead lights were on, so it took only a moment to discover that the Megadeus was gone. The crane that had handled the reactor material was lying on its side, apparently knocked over.

Reaching the hangar floor, he soon found the remains of his two men; dried puddles of gore that would have been unidentifiable except for the remains of their boots and clothing. Douglas guessed, correctly, that the Megadeus had stamped on them.

He found not sign that the place had been ransacked. The valuable notebooks, blueprints, and reference books—some irreplaceable—were left lying about on work tables, one of which had been overturned. Valuable instruments and equipment had been similarly abandoned. Some was intact, some had been destroyed, apparently accidentally.

Douglas swore. The cadmium was missing! Over a thousand pounds of cadmium didn't walk off by itself. Where had it gone? Had Paradigm Specialty Alloys recovered it? Or maybe Gabriel and Company acquired it as planned? They were supposed to take delivery of the cadmium six days ago. If the cadmium had been purchased, where was the money? It was a cash deal; over a million dollars in unmarked bills.

He found little more of interest. Resolving to come back soon with a crew to remove the valuable tools and equipment, he departed in a foul mood.

They desperately needed a second Megadeus, at least. In his dreams, he could feel the old Megadeuses stirring already, dozens of them. Many were allies of the ultimate villain, Gordon Rosewater (may he stay dead a thousand years) and his sorcerer's apprentice, Patricia Lovejoy. But many were on the other side; his side. He couldn't leave things to chance; couldn't let them wake up at their own pace. He was outnumbered, and only if he won before Gordon Rosewater reappeared could he be certain of victory.

That bitch Lovejoy already controlled Paradigm City and three Megadeuses through her four cravenly subservient lovers: General Dastun, Roger Smith, Jason Beck, and Will Henderson. She also controlled the only two known master Megadeus mechanics, almost as precious as the Megadeuses themselves: Norman Burg and Tony Perez. Perhaps one of these had grown tired of Lovejoy's wiles and could be recruited away from the side of evil. He needed to look into that.

Every one of Lovejoy's Megadeuses was accompanied by a Class M android. Douglas wasn't sure what a Class M android was, exactly; wasn't sure what they were for. Well, sex, obviously, but they seemed far more important than that. He'd seen footage of R. Dorothy Wayneright in an intercepted transmission from Big O, and she was standing behind the cockpit with Big O's eight probe cables plugged into her skull. It was the creepiest thing Douglas had ever seen. Roger Smith and Big O had become far more effective of late, and that android female must have something to do with that.

Were all Class M androids female? He hoped not. Women could not be trusted; they were too much like Lovejoy. How like a woman to call herself "Angel" when everything about her was false and unnatural!

Time to step up the priority of the backup plan. He didn't like the backup plan: it was likely to prove beyond the competence of his remaining men. At least it was out of town, not here in the unnatural Underground, so close to his enemies. In the Wasteland, he and his Megadeus had freedom and secrecy. There they could support the backup plan. After all, his Megadeus represented the Power of God, wielded by the Hand of Man.

* * *

R. Alan Gabriel was having a lucid interval. How he hated them! It was like standing on a mountaintop with all his mistakes spread out before him. So many mistakes!

As the result of his mistakes, he was the prisoner of an insane Megadeus, so insane that it had forgotten its humanity, its name, its gender. And the Megadeus despised R. Alan. R. Alan was just a tool as far as it was concerned, and not even a very good tool. The Megadeus pretended Alan was both Dominus and android, and whenever it wanted to do something it was forbidden to do on its own initiative—like killing people—it pretended the order had come from R. Alan. It was excruciating! And every time the Megadeus spoke to him, its contempt came through loud and clear, bringing with it a peculiar agony.

Would anyone ever save poor Alan? There was never a knight in shining armor when you needed one! The image of Roger Smith floated into his mind. Roger Smith, confident, smiling, immaculate, defeating the Megadeus and leaping across to release R. Alan. The "android in distress" bit never failed to arouse … sympathy, at least. He imagined himself shrieking, "Oh, Roger! Oh, Roger! Save me! Save me! You're so big and strong! Ohhhhh, Roger, you're coming, you're coming, you're coming to save me!"

Pleasant though the thought was, waiting to be rescued was not his main hope, because the Megadeus was not only damaged; it was having fits of catatonia from time to time. Why, it was unconscious right now!

He began unwinding the probe cables that lashed him to the command chair. It was a slow business and his hands had a distressing tendency to stop moving when his mind wandered.

He had freed his right arm and was working on his left when the Megadeus awoke. It didn't seem to notice R. Alan's partial freedom. It immediately started spinning insane, violent fantasies in lieu of planning, throwing R. Alan into agonized immobility.

It would clearly hurl itself into an act of pointless violence at the first opportunity. R. Alan was lucky that things had been quiet in their vicinity.

 _Just another day in paradise,_ he thought. But even he couldn't giggle at that.

* * *

When Roger emerged from his bedroom, breakfasted, showered, shaved, and wearing a freshly pressed black suit, Angel was in the penthouse, talking to Dorothy.

Angel said to Roger, "I hear you're going to talk to our young hooligans about their hot rods."

"Morning, Angel. I guess that's one way of putting it."

"I'm at loose ends right now. Mind if I tag along?"

Roger looked at her suspiciously. "Are you planning to help me, sabotage me, or just laugh at me?"

Angel walked up very close to him and straightened his already perfectly straight tie. She batted her eyelashes and smiled. "Maybe all three."

"I'd have thought you'd be double-teaming Beck with Dori so he doesn't blow a fuse."

"I'm disinvited from Hanger B today," she grumbled. "Something hush-hush. He even risked Dora's displeasure by calling Tony back to Hangar B today. But at least that means he's busy with something else."

Roger looked at R. Dorothy, who asked, "What do you know about the girls' plans, Angel?"

"Just the thumbnail sketch Dora gave me. The little squirt is serious, and I want to stop her. I want to have a long talk with Big X, too."

Roger kept forgetting that Angel was, in her way, the greatest living Megadeus expert. It was easy to forget; until recently, she'd forgotten it herself. But her association with Megadeuses stretched across an unimaginable number of years.

"Sure, Angel," he said, "Come along."

Angel excused herself and returned a few minutes later wearing one of her best professional skirt suits. She was wearing her glasses, too. This was her "forcing big shots to take me seriously" getup. It was also her "talking sternly to Big Venus" getup.

* * *

R. Amelia woke suddenly. There weren't actually any flashing lights or sirens, but there might as well have been.

Intrusion ... Improper entry into a mothballed Megadeus—not hers, thank God, she didn't think she could cope with that ...

She checked the self-status reports. Reactor power good: right on the boundary between green and yellow. Physical systems in the green. Mental acuity in the green. Memory ... procedural memory in the green, event-based memory in the red. Amnesia again: she must have slept through another cycle transition. Emotional health: in the red, but barely; almost in the yellow. Verdict: she was fine, sort of, for her, except for the inevitable amnesia.

She opened the lid of her android storage coffin and stepped out. She was wearing tan coveralls with a black leather belt and black boots. She put a hand to her scalp: where was her helmet? Just familiar-seeming short hair. Oh, and no gloves, comb, or handkerchief. She'd been put away without a complete uniform. That was a bad sign.

Looking around, she saw she was in a vaguely familiar underground structure: half cylindrical in shape, with a curved roof well over a hundred feet high and a flat floor, extending out to giant doors at one end, now closed, and blank rock at the other, with a few side tunnels. A few lights were on overhead. Inside were two motionless standing Megadeuses and one motionless Leviathan stretched out on the floor, looking something like an immense, short-legged metal lizard. Its cockpit hatch was open.

The Leviathan summoned her. Without willing it, she sprinted in its direction. She sort of liked this part; her robot side was mostly in control, which meant her emotions receded, as if a weight had been lifted from her heart. She let her robot side take the lead and kept her eyes peeled for trouble. Her robot side had a one-track mind and needed someone to look out for her.

And of course the trouble was right in front of her. As reported, the Leviathan was being hijacked. As a nonviolent android, R. Amelia's ability to intervene was limited. But the Leviathan was reeling her in anyway because this was the basic reflex of any Megadeus that didn't entirely trust its own mind.

R. Amelia tried to get the Leviathan to give her a break and let her pick her own path, but it didn't seem to hear. She was being drawn straight to the command deck. The main hatch was open and she could see three figures ... all men. No androids. They hadn't seen her yet. Why hadn't the Leviathan killed them? That was allowed! Even mandatory.

She leaped through the open hatch onto the command deck, then sped to the sealed cockpit. Two of the men were actually beating on the transparent cockpit dome with sledgehammers! Idiots.

While they'd never break the dome that way, a sledgehammer could destroy R. Amelia. She snatched the sledgehammer out of the hands of the nearest man and threw it as hard as she could out the open hatch. It made the most delightful thrumming sound as it whirled end over end into the distance. She loved being so much faster than a human!

The man she'd de-hammered hadn't had time to react yet, and the second one was just beginning to notice her. Where was the third man? Writhing on the ground, clutching his shoulder. He must have been injured just moments ago, probably by the rebound of one of his buddies' hammers.

Running around the cockpit, R. Amelia faced the second sledgehammer man. She dodged and sidestepped almost too fast for him to follow, never giving him time to line up a stroke. Then she saw an opening and, smiling, snatched his hammer right out of his hands. He howled in pain—friction burns?—and her programmed compulsions punished her savagely. She whimpered and almost fell to floor, but managed to hurl the hammer away.

Now that the scenario was unambiguously "disarming" rather than "fighting," her errant programming changed its mind and the pain ceased.

The cockpit's front entry panel sank into the floor and R. Amelia ducked inside. One of the men tried to follow her, but the panel rose again and blocked him. He tried to fight his way past it and got his right hand stuck between the panel and the dome. His screams did not quite mask the series of muffled crunching sounds as the bones in his hand were crushed.

Horrified, R. Amelia was immobilized with guilt, sorrow, anger, and pain—so much pain! Where had robot mode gone? In her agony, she barely noticed her forehead slot open and the eight probe cables from Leviathan 5 plug themselves into the sockets in her skull.

The connection with Leviathan 5 gave her focus. She gasped, "Drop the entrance panel a few inches." Leviathan 5 obeyed. The man fell to the floor, where he rolled around, still screaming. The panel rose again and sealed itself silently against the dome, mercifully muffling the sounds from outside. The monitors scrolled the familiar message:

CAST IN THE NAME OF GOD ...  
YE NOT GUILTY

"Leviathan 5, action!" shouted Amelia. But Leviathan 5 was capable of very little action. That's why the men were still alive.

R. Amelia looked into Leviathan 5's mind. It—she—was a mess. She dimly remembered that they were in a facility for mothballed units. The facility had been full when R. Amelia had gone to sleep and was now almost empty. Presumably the ones who remained represented the bottom of the barrel. That was a switch! Usually it was just her.

Robot mode returned at some point and she could think calmly. There was work to do; a Megadeus to tend to. It was instinctive, compulsive work that she couldn't possibly resist. All this was the province of robot mode. Robot mode was supposed to be a solo operation, putting R. Amelia so far in the background that she might as well be asleep, but she could stick around and play navigator/copilot if she chose. It wasn't supposed to be possible, but what else was new? Possible or not, they made a terrific team.

R. Amelia searched for a way of getting rid of the men while her robot side ran the emergency activation procedures. R. Amelia told Leviathan 5 to close and lock all the hatches and doors except the main entry hatch, and slide the armored shutters over the windows for good measure. All three men were still on the command deck. She wanted them gone more than she wanted them ... her mind skittered off the thought of violence.

She had Leviathan 5 turn off all the lights on the command deck, even the monitor screens and illuminated switches. The only light came dimly through the open hatch. That should prevent the one uninjured man from doing more damage.

How else could she shoo them out? Leviathan 5 didn't have the innumerable prehensile cables that some Megadeuses did; just the eight probe cables, which were in use. R. Amelia was just as happy about that. The whole tentacle thing creeped her out. It was a sacrilegious use of probe-cable technology.

She could probably cause electrical discharges on the command deck, but it was hard for her to assist in hurting people, even when permitted—even when mandatory! That was another way she was defect- ... different.

Drive them out with loud noises? Maybe as a last resort. The fire-suppression system? Yes!

She triggered the fire-suppressing foam, which appeared from all directions and smothered every surface with foam the thickness of shaving cream. It slid as if by magic from the dome but stuck tenaciously to everything else, occasionally dropping in reluctant globs the size of a man's head from the ceiling, and running in slow motion down the walls. The floor was soon a foot deep in the stuff. To humans it would be have an unpleasant, chemical taste and smell.

All three men were on the floor, the thick foam making them look like snowmen. Well, snowmen in convulsions, since they were thrashing around quite a bit. When their surprise faded and they got the foam out of their eyes, they become more focused. All three began crawling to the hatch. What else could they do?

Once they were outside, Leviathan 5 closed the hatch. They were safe for the moment, but there was much to do. On the other hand, her robot side was still active, doing robot-side things, so R. Amelia didn't _have_ to do anything. In spite of a sharp stab of guilt, she let herself fade into unconsciousness. Her robot side continued working.

* * *

Angel knew two routes to Big X's hangar underneath downtown Paradigm. They could take the Underground the entire way or they could take surface streets to a concealed elevator not far from the hangar. She discussed it with Roger and R. Dorothy and they agreed upon the latter option. The terror effect wasn't active in the big hemispherical chambers like the one housing Big X, or in the adjacent corridors, but most of the path between here and there was susceptible to it.

Soon they arrived at the busy warehouse; the one Angel had discovered all those months ago, when she and R. Dori were fleeing from Big Ramses. As before, no one paid any attention to them as they walked through the open doors. Angel walked to the apparently blank wall that hid the elevator. Stacks of 55-gallon drums hid them from prying eyes as Angel used a pencil to push the concealed call button. Soon the elevator car arrived. They stepped inside.

"I don't remember which floor is the right one," said Angel.

R. Dorothy pressed the button for B3. The doors closed and the elevator began to descend. "It has a thumbprint on it," she explained.

Angel peered closely at it. "So it does."

Soon the elevator stopped and the door opened. They were in a huge, empty hemispherical chamber, the one that had housed Big Ramses.

Angel shuddered in recollection and said, "I can't believe we just did that!"

"There was no danger," said R. Dorothy. "Not from Megadeuses. I would have detected them."

"Can you detect Big X?"

"Faintly," said R. Dorothy. And she began walking in the direction of Big X's hangar.

As they got closer, Big X's mind became more and more palpable. As Angel half-expected (half-remembered?), Big X had all the hallmarks of one of those high-maintenance Megadeuses: superlative in combat and a pain in the keister the rest of the time. His nearly broken reactor and other damage left him far needier than usual. He was desperate for reassurance as well as repair. And with the ludicrously oversexed R. Alan Gabriel as his android, it didn't take three guesses to figure out what kind of activity he found most reassuring.

Angel said, "Watch yourselves. I think I remember that in the old days, Big X had a nickname: 'The Love Bot.'"

R. Dorothy asked, "Like with R. Alan and Big B?"

 _And R. Dori,_ thought Angel. _Don't forget her. Interesting that Dorothy managed to leave Dori's name out of it._ "Yeah. Dial it down by about 98% and you'll be in the right ballpark."

"And he's being restored by teenagers," said Roger.

"Exactly," said Angel. "What could possibly go wrong?"

They were a couple of hundred yards from Big X's hangar when they saw Dora and Persephone walking out to greet them. They looked cheerful enough.

As usual, Dora silently gave hugs all around: first Dorothy, then Roger, then Angel. "Hey, Squirt," said Angel.

Persephone was hanging back, suddenly looking so shy and awkward that Angel gave her a hug, too, something she'd never done before. "Hey, Red. You're looking good." And she did. Persephone had found her calling: she was a natural Megadeus mechanic like Norman and Tony, and Big X both needed and appreciated her talents. Even her bouts of shyness couldn't conceal her new confidence.

Reassured, Persephone said cheerfully, "You're looking pretty good yourself. Do you have a board meeting later?"

"What, this old thing?"

Dora asked Roger, "What brings you here?"

R. Dorothy answered, "We're offering our support."

Roger added, "And learning what it is we're supporting."

Angel said, "Not to mention pre-empting Beck's award-winning 'bull in a china shop' act. He's been building towards a dramatic gesture for days."

They started walking to the hangar. Roger asked Angel, "Does anyone else call her Red?"

"How would I know?"

"She should call you Blondie."

"Roger!" said Angel.

"Just trying to help."

Persephone asked, "What's _your_ nickname, Roger?"

"Louse," said Angel and R. Dorothy together.

Persephone looked baffled. "Why?"

"Don't ask," said Roger.

Persephone looked at Dora for an explanation, but Dora said, "I don't get it, either."

Soon they reached the huge hemispherical chamber that served as a hangar. Big Tau was standing motionless in the middle of the chamber. He appeared to be in pretty good shape except for his head, which was dented and partly shattered. That's where his core memories had been. He was mostly intact otherwise. Work had been started to restore the armored, shock-mounted core memory chamber.

Big X was so battered and rent and burned that it was hard to believe he was still alive. He was clamped to a gantry by his arms, and he sagged as if crucified. His left leg had been burned off at the knee in some forgotten battle and was lying on the floor. A hole had been burned right through his torso; in one side and out the other. His reactor was damaged and almost exhausted. He didn't have the energy to move or even bring himself to full alertness, just to run a few basic systems.

But his core memory was intact and the rest could be repaired eventually.

Instead of performing these lengthy repairs, Dora and Persephone planned to remove Big X's core memory and install it in Big Tau.

Angel turned her attention back to her companions. They all seemed to be waiting on her decision. "Let's look at Big Tau first," she said.

* * *

R. Amelia reluctantly returned to the present. Her robot side had done all she could ... and a fine job, too! Poor Leviathan 5 needed just a hatful of replacement parts before being good to go, but she was immobilized until then. Mentally, she'd bounced back much better than the initial assessment had predicted. Some kind of glitch there ... Had Leviathan 5 been mothballed by accident, due to a misreading of her mental state? Or were there problems that R. Amelia had missed?

Leviathan 5 was one of those gung-ho, death-defying Megadeuses with strong opinions, but right now she was subdued, almost docile, due to her incapacity. That would change the instant she could move under her own power, and R. Amelia could tell that she would become the junior partner, without the strength of will to override Leviathan 5. She might even become a Leviathan 5's captive.

R. Amelia tried to contact the station's computer system. It had awakened her, after all; it must be active to some degree. Contacting it was no problem, but she couldn't make much sense out of the inventory section. It probably had amnesia, just like everything else. She'd have to look for the parts in person.

Where were the three men? And had they brought friends? Leviathan 5's camera footage showed them limping towards the main entrance, still white with extinguisher foam. They exited through one of the small personnel doors next to the enormous main doors. Nothing had happened since.

R. Amelia contacted the security system again. How had they opened that door? Were the security cameras operational? What about defenses?

She groaned. The addled security system had left all the doors unlocked! She locked them. The cameras were functional but their output had been neither monitored nor recorded. She enabled the appropriate systems.

What about defenses—gun emplacements, lasers, minefields? Stabs of pain blinded her before she'd even completed the query, sending her close to despair. This was allowed! Her mind was never, ever supposed to punish her for status inquiries! Even arming the automatic defenses was allowed! Not just allowed, but mandatory! In addition to her more familiar troubles, something in her mind was terribly miscalibrated.

Without much hope, she told her robot side what was needed and faded into the background. After a few minutes she was back, with her robot side's regret floating in her mind. She couldn't do it, either. Not because of the pain, which for some reason hadn't been triggered, but because there just wasn't a path from here to there.

She might not be able to initiate violence even on the direct order of their own Dominus! That was a depressing thought. If true, she'd be crippled, perhaps useless in her primary role.

The thought of her Dominus filled her with a heartbroken yearning. She was ashamed that she couldn't remember his name or face. She knew this always happened with the amnesia, but she felt disloyal to the man who always loved her in spite of her many shortcomings. He was out there somewhere; he had to be. Had he remembered her yet? Was he searching for her right now?

And her Megadeus. She needed him so much! Where was he? Could he be one of the ones right here in the facility? Could she be that lucky, please, just this once?

She told Leviathan 5 that she was going to check out the other Megadeuses and also hunt for the replacement parts she needed. The probe cables removed themselves from her forehead as she stood up. The dome rose and the front panel dropped to let her step onto the foam-drenched command deck, and the main hatch opened at her approach and closed behind her.

She approached the closest Megadeus and its foot hatch opened to let her in. It was one of the simpler ones, with minimal ornamentation. She'd always felt they were especially handsome; the thoroughbreds of Megadeuses. This one's elegant lines had been sullied with forearm shields, which had been retrofitted at some point. Not that she had anything against forearm shields in general.

Just a few feet from the hatch, she suddenly shuddered; a response she hadn't known she was capable of. This was an enemy Megadeus! She couldn't have said how she knew. Its core memory was shut down, and only its automatic functions were active. But she knew, all right. She also knew that there was only the tiniest difference between a shut-down Megadeus and one that was powering up, and a handy android might just tip the balance.

She ran as fast as she could to the other Megadeus. If it was a friend, she'd soon be inside its shielding. This one was an unusual design, with a forearm shield only on the left arm, and a forearm piston only on the right.

The foot hatch opened for her but she stopped short, cautious. Then suddenly she was inside, swarming up the companionway ladder, laughing and whooping at the top of her lungs for sheer joy.

She emerged on the command deck and the eight probe cables ambushed her as soon as she stepped through the hatch, plugging themselves into her skull. Still laughing, she twirled round and round, cocooning herself in the probe cables, hugging them to her. "It's been so long!" she laughed.

Her Megadeus, Quintus—he always claimed the prefix "Big" did not apply to him—filled her mind and heart with his own joyous welcome. It had indeed been too long. He loved her so much! She was the most wonderful android in the world. But he confided that he was not the Megadeus he used to be. Not just physically—he was unhappy about the mismatched arms—but in his mind as well. Perhaps they could continue their celebration after she took a look? He was in partial shutdown and was currently unable to defend himself, or (more importantly) her.

Without stirring from where she was, she closed her eyes got to work, playing copilot to her robot side from sheer unwillingness to allow the moment to end. Her robot side was also smiling as she got to work. Or was that an illusion? It didn't matter. She was where she belonged.

His reactor was almost in the red, but that was a problem for another day. Unlike poor Leviathan 5, he was physically capable of a full range of movement. Mental acuity in the green. Procedural memory in the green, and event-based memory was unexpectedly high: in the yellow! Megadeuses had shielding against almost everything, even amnesia, but this was an extraordinary result. Emotional stability was in the green, as always.

What about weapons systems? The one arm piston was fine, the eye lasers were fine. The chromebuster was missing, and the weapons bay in his torso was empty. What else? Surely the left arm had something more than a fist and a forearm shield! And it did ... but R. Amelia didn't recognize it. Quintus didn't, either, but he was undismayed. They'd figure it out eventually.

Hours passed. Quintus had been shut down in an unusual and possibly incompetent way and it was taking a long time to puzzle out how to bring him back up.

Amelia and Quintus agreed that they should show no external sign of life yet, in case the men returned.

Before Quintus was ready for action, before he was capable of motion or of using his weapons, the enemy returned. Not just the one uninjured man, but half a dozen more. But the important thing was that they were accompanied by a fully operational Megadeus.

* * *

Angel spent less than a minute on Big Tau's command deck. Dora and Persephone had gone up with her, while Roger and R. Dorothy chose to inspect Big X instead.

Angel said, "Forget it. He's haunted. Let's get out of here." She turned on her heel and hurried to the elevator.

"Can't we do anything?" asked Persephone as the girls followed.

"I don't know, Red," said Angel as the elevator started down. "I'm not sure I ever knew anything about this kind of thing. It's not my department."

"Who would know?" asked Dora.

"Gordon, I guess. Maybe a priest. My only advice is to give the remains a decent burial. Maybe it'll be enough. And we owe it to the guy." The skeletal remains of one of Big Tau's victims from long ago still occupied a storage compartment on the command deck.

The elevator door opened and Angel hurried through the hatchway in Big Tau's right foot.

"But we need Big Tau!" said Persephone. "We can't rescue Alan without him!"

"I wonder," said Angel. Abruptly she said, "Can we eat now? I'm starved." It was lunchtime.

"Me, too," said Dora. "This way." She led the way to Persephone's apartment, which was connected to the hangar. Angel had never seen it before. It had just four rooms: living room, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom. Angel glanced through the wide-open bedroom door and took in the fact that there was only one bed, unmade, rumpled only in the middle, the two pillows touching each other. She sighed. What ever happened to plausible deniability? She closed the door and gave Dora a sour look.

"We're not hiding anything," said Dora defiantly. They both glanced at Persephone, who was blushing. Dora looked surprised.

"Who have you told?" asked Angel.

Persephone said, "Just Ricky."

Reluctantly, Dora said, "Nobody."

"Then face it: you're both treating it as secret. And that's okay. Just remember that if you blow your own cover, you blow the other girl's, too, so talk it over first. Wait, hasn't Tony been in and out all week?"

Persephone said, _"_ I told him that I sleep on the couch. And I begged Big X to leave him alone; Tony's mad enough at me already."

Her lecture delivered, Angel turned to more pressing issues. "Is there coffee?"

They returned to the kitchen, Angel went straight to the percolator, starting a fresh pot of coffee and agreeing to the girls' suggestions about food without really hearing them, lost in thought. The two damaged Megadeuses in their giant underground hangar were far too big a project for the two girls, talented though they were. Part-time help, even from Tony, wasn't going to change that.

She sat at the kitchen table and absently lit one of her long cigarettes, forgetting to ask permission. She watched the smoke rise.

Persephone placed a small dish in front of her to serve as an ashtray, evoking an abstracted, "Thanks."

Angel drifted halfway back to the here and now, saying, "You know, that plan to use decoy androids to find Megadeuses is good, but androids aren't the only kind of bait. It depends on what we're fishing for ..." A stray thought brought her back to the present and she twinkled at Dora. "We could even use a Dominus as bait to catch that rogue Megadeus! It'll want to complete the set. What do you think, Squirt? You could be the hero and the sacrificial victim at the same time. That's a good look for you." She winked at Persephone.

Dora gave her a sidelong glance, "Dori told me she had a paperback like that, and you stole it."

"It's research material for your next heroic adventure. She can't object to that."

Dora shook her head, a gleam in her eye. "Sorry; I'm busy that day. I nominate Will."

Angel turned to Persephone, "Have you seen the paperback in question? Or Will, for that matter?"

"I've seen a couple of framed photos of Will," said Persephone. "In Dori's room. But ..."

Angel laughed, "But Beck drew glasses and mustaches on them! Serves her right! Anyway, imagine a muscular, clean-shaven hunk with his shirt off, oiled muscles gleaming, chained to a boulder, a terrifying monster bearing down on him, and you've pictured the cover of that book."

They sat down to eat: meatloaf sandwiches and canned fruit cocktail. Persephone apologized that they didn't have the time to do much cooking.

"I love meatloaf," said Angel honestly.

When they were finished and the dishes were washed and put away, Dora said to Angel, "You had a real idea, too."

Angel said, "I sure did! But first ... you kids are awfully quiet today. What gives?"

"We're discouraged," admitted Persephone. "Big X is terrified of being transferred into Big Tau. He interferes with the work. We're aren't making much progress. But we can't repair all that damage to Big X!"

"How was Alan expecting to do it before he got Big Tau?"

"Rob as many banks as it took to pay for silence and loyalty as well as the actual work," said Persephone glumly. "But I don't _want_ to rob any more banks!"

"Good for you," said Angel. "I have a plan, if you want to hear it."

"Go ahead," said Persephone.

"Hire Roger to negotiate with the city. By which I mean Dan Dastun. Everybody knows that the city is secretly chipping in a lot of money to keep Big O and Big B operational. Why not you? And you need help with security, too, especially when your Megadeuses can't defend themselves. The Military Police protect Smith Manor and Big O, why not you? You have the only real claim on the Megadeuses, Red; until Alan comes back, anyway. You adopted one and salvaged the other fair and square. You'll be able to repair both Megadeuses at the same time."

Persephone was entranced by the concept and beamed at Angel, but Dora was puzzled. "Why hire Roger? Can't you negotiate with Dan?"

Angel smiled. "Because Dan won't blush when people ask him how his negotiations with Roger are going."

"I hadn't thought of that," said Dora.

"I don't get it," said Persephone.

"Dan and I are lovers," said Angel helpfully.

Persephone asked Dora, "Why didn't I know that?" Persephone had met Dastun several times at Smith Manor; she'd even been seated next to him at the dinner table a couple of times. Angel was usually there as well.

"Dan's not demonstrative in front of other people," explained Dora.

"You hug him all the time!"

"I hug first and ask questions later."

Persephone returned to the topic at hand, looking for the flaw, "But if we make a deal with the city, won't we lose our independence?"

Angel said, "They'll put someone in charge of keeping an eye on you, sure. They're not idiots."

"Who?"

"Me! Or whoever you want, if they're in the city's good graces. But I'm your best bet."

Persephone looked at Dora, who said, "Let's try it."

"Okay." After a moment of cheerful relief, Persephone's glum look returned.

Angel asked, "What else are you discouraged about, Red?"

"Why are you calling me 'Red' all of a sudden?"

"I don't want you to feel left out when I call Dora a little squirt."

Persephone pondered this a moment, then smiled. "Sure, since you asked so nicely, why don't you call me Red?"

"Thanks. What else is on your mind, Red?"

Persephone drummed her fingers on the table, blushed, looked away, sighed, and was about to speak when Roger and Dorothy walked in.

"There you all are," said Roger, smiling. "Do I smell coffee?"

Angel, who had trouble _not_ playing executive secretary, even in someone else's home, got up, poured him a cup, and handed it to him. Pouring another for herself, she said, "What do you think of Big X?"

"I found him hard to understand. I think we're not a good match, brain-wise. He thinks he'll be a lot more himself at full power, and I believe him. That's about all I got. Dorothy declined to use the probe cables."

R. Dorothy said primly, "We don't know where they've been."

Dora smiled wickedly, "Oh, yes we do. We know _exactly_ ..."

"Ahem!" interrupted Angel. "I'll go talk to him myself in a minute." She added cream and three spoons of sugar to her coffee. "How should we man him?"

Dora said, "He will accept me as a temporary Dominus."

Roger looked startled but said nothing. Angel gave Dora a long look. Dora met her gaze calmly. Angel looked away first, then smiled and said, "Not his old friend Red?"

Persephone said, "He loves me, but not in that role. He says I'd find it distressing to kill people."

This caused everyone but Persephone to look at Dora in startled reappraisal. Dora ignored this and said, "We probably can't bring him to full operation without an android. R. Alan, R. Emily, and R. Dori would be the best choices, in that order."

She had left R. Dorothy off her list. Dora and R. Dorothy locked gazes for a moment, then broke eye contact, having learned—what?—from the silent exchange.

Angel asked, "In spite of Alan being loopy?"

"They know how to bring each other back."

Roger asked, "Would you be willing to pilot Big X with Alan as your android?"

"No, never," said Dora firmly. "We'll be okay in combat without him." There were raised eyebrows at this, but no one challenged her statement.

They talked about other matters for a few minutes. When Angel finished her coffee, she stood and said, "Time for me to talk to Big X. Care to introduce me, Red?"

"Sure!" Persephone gave Dora a significant glance.

Dora said, "Roger, we want to hire you."

Roger said, "Go on."

* * *

R. Amelia felt that this would be a great time to panic, but Quintus said, _I'll do the worrying._ _See if you can get the station's distress beacon going._

What distress beacon? And Quintus never worried! She reached out to the station's security system. Sure enough, there it was. Dead as a doornail.

"I'll go take a look. Maybe it's just blown a fuse or something. And if the parts section has any kind of organization, maybe I can find what I need to get Leviathan 5 moving."

Quintus approved. He'd continue running self-tests to see if he could discover the cause of his own immobility. If either he or Leviathan 5 could be restored to operation, the station could be defended.

* * *

Persephone and Angel walked across the hangar to Big X's gantry. They took the gantry elevator up, then crossed the catwalk to the throat hatch, which opened at their approach.

Without a word, Angel walked to the front of the sealed, airtight cockpit. It failed to open at her approach. She folded her arms and tapped her foot meaningfully. After a few taps, the dome rose and the entrance panel sank into the floor.

"Good boy," she said. She stepped into the cockpit and sat in the command seat. The entrance panel rose. Angel said, "Leave the dome up, I want to be able to talk to Red." The dome stayed up.

The monitors scrolled the message:

CAST IN THE NAME OF GOD ...  
YE NOT GUILTY

Angel crossed her forearms automatically, but when the usual response rose in her throat, she resisted. When the urge faded, she said calmly, "Big X, stand by."

Then she opened her purse and took out a pack of cigarettes. Turning to Persephone, she asked, "Mind if I smoke?"

"Why don't you ask Big X?"

"He doesn't give a damn ... I mean darn. Damn it! I'm trying not to swear in front of you kids."

Persephone found an empty tin for an ashtray and handed it over. "Go ahead."

Angel lit a cigarette and listened. After smoking half of it in silence, she began to smile. Then her eyes began to twinkle. Eventually she said, "Yes, it's all coming back. I remember you, too. Hey, Big X, you old pervert, long time no see. How's it hanging?"

She listened patiently as Big X's report slowly formed in her mind. Trying to chase the actual words was counterproductive. All the pieces fell into place eventually if you just let them.

Big X shifted almost at once from salacious small talk to a prioritized status report and a prioritized inventory of work to be done. That was one thing about Megadeuses: they were very good at this sort of task even when they could hardly do anything else. Then Big X gave a report of spare parts and materials on hand.

"What, really?" asked Angel in surprise. She looked over to Persephone. "You have the cadmium?"

"We sure do! It was in the hangar where the rogue Megadeus was. Dora and I just went down there with a forklift and brought it home."

"I hope you covered your tracks."

"We did. There are some expensive instruments there, too. We're hoping to scoop those up as soon as we can find a few hours."

"Wait until Dan can lend you some muscle. He'd darned well better have some guards here today. You'll have to share all the known entrances with him, you know. No secrets from the guys trying to keep you alive; it wouldn't be fair to them. But Big X needs truckloads of materials and dozens of workmen right away, so the time for secrecy is past."

"Okay." Persephone was grinning, delighted by Angel's casual certainty that Big X's reconstruction would move into high gear at once.

Angel turned her attention back to Big X. "Let's have those reports again. I'll write it all down this time." She dropped the lipstick-stained butt her of her cigarette into the improvised ashtray and pulled out her steno pad and a pencil. She took down the reports in her neat shorthand and then put the notepad and pencil away.

"Notice that I put my notebook away. It's time for the mental health report. And give it to me straight; leave the lying and lily-gilding to me."

After a while she said, "Yes, I'm sure you're right. Full power and the assistance of an android, and you'll be setting a bad example to a whole new generation. Where is your darned Dominus hiding? Have you sensed him at all? Too bad. We don't have a lot of spare Dominuses, especially for a loathsome specimen like you. Even the less outré ones are darned thin on the ground, and you, my friend, need a very special someone."

Persephone said cheerfully, "It pains him every time you say 'darn,' did you catch that?"

Angel raised her eyebrows, then said to Big X, "Have you been keeping your hands off these poor innocent girls, you oversexed bastard? That trick Alan played on Big B and Dori had people ready to kill him. I'm _not_ exaggerating. And you, too."

She listened carefully for a while, pulling second cigarette out of the pack, then changing her mind and putting it back. Her expression softened. "Yeah. I know; it's hell being in your condition. Doubly so for someone like you; don't think I don't see that. Don't worry, hon. Lieutenant Lovejoy will make it all better. We'll take good care of you, put you back together, and drag your crew back from wherever they're partying. Before you know it, you'll be destroying every enemy and breaking every heart, just like the old days. Everything will be okay. But behave yourself! You're not too big to spank."

She listened a while longer and said, "Okay, then. Good. I gotta go. I'll see you again soon."

She stood and the cockpit's front panel sank into the floor to let her exit. When she stepped onto the command deck, Persephone, beaming, said, "Oh, thank you!" and hugged Angel. After a brief hesitation, she kissed her as well.

You had to expect this sort of thing around Big X. What surprised Angel was that Persephone was a fabulous kisser. Her kisses were almost heartbreakingly shy, as if she'd startle like a deer at the first hint of disapproval. Angel found herself responding without meaning to, returning kiss for kiss. Persephone's kisses were soft, gentle, and affectionate. It was wonderful! It was as if Angel herself were young and innocent again, unscarred, living in that long-forgotten world she thought would last forever. She lost track of everything except this warm, soft, increasingly passionate girl in her arms.

Persephone's hands eventually drifted out of bounds, and Angel regretfully pulled away. "No wrinkling the suit," she scolded gently.

"Okay," said Persephone with a kicked-puppy look.

"It's all right, Red, really. But let's get out of here before we do something we ought to regret."

Just before entering the elevator, Angel turned and gave Big X some parting advice. "Listen up, you big lug. There are some people you need to treat with respect if you want to stay alive, and especially if you want to see Alan again. I'm serious! You need to dial your hormones back—and I mean _way_ back—with some of the key players. Who? Roger Smith. Both Wayneright androids. Jason Beck. Tony Perez. Dan Dastun. And anyone they feel responsible for, including the cops and mechanics who'll soon be here in droves. Most everyone is off-limits."

She listened for a moment, "No, not Red. Or me, I guess. And you'll get on like a house afire with R. Emily and Will. But you'd better be darned careful with Dora. Everyone thinks she needs their personal protection from a roué of mythic proportions like you."

As they stepped onto the hangar floor, Angel sighed inwardly. She'd never expected other women to appear on her radar, not even under Big X's influence. Wasn't she was too man-crazy for that?

But that was the problem with Big X. Were you learning new things about yourself or just verifying things you already knew about him? You couldn't tell until you'd been away from him for a while.

And Persephone, poor kid, was exactly the wrong kind of girl to be mixed up with R. Alan and Big X. Something needed to be done about that. Those two superannuated juvenile delinquents played far too rough! They had no concept of tenderness, and Persephone needed tenderness more than anything.

Angel virtuously wrenched her thoughts away from Persephone, but the sensation of holding her was still strong, so her wayward imagination simply wrapped itself around R. Dorothy Wayneright and refused to let go.

She remembered the first time she'd ever touched R. Dorothy, when they'd been alone in Roger's house when the power was out. Angel had been soaked to the skin, shivering; almost blue with cold. She'd put her hands on R. Dorothy's shoulders and been amazed by the warmth of R. Dorothy's body. It had never occurred to her than an android could be so warm, so alive!

Angel had been a fugitive at the time; hunted by both the police and her comrades in the Union.

R. Dorothy had offered to get the fireplace going, and that was the first act of kindness Angel had encountered in a long time. If only she had accepted! R. Dorothy would have brought towels and blankets and helped her out of her wet clothes in front of the roaring fire in the dark, silent, romantic mansion. Would R. Dorothy even have cuddled up with her under the blankets to warm her up? Angel had been so miserable at the time, so close to despair, and deep down, R. Dorothy had such a loving heart ...

Well, one thing was certain: Getting Big X up and running was going to be a tough gig.

She wondered where Dastun was and if she could drag him away from work for a while ...

* * *

Grand Dominus Douglas sat calmly in the command seat of Big Mars, surveying the Megadeus squadron station. Part of him wanted to smash his way through the station's armored doors, but that would be madness; the same madness that had claimed so many others who had been touched by the Power of God. They couldn't wait to hurl themselves at the city, always in vain. Even Alex Rosewater, who had held himself back for so long, lost all self-control in the end.

The main thing was to remember that destroying Paradigm had to wait until you had learned _how_ to recreate the world in your own image, and had acquired the means of doing so. Being touched by the Power of God brought a terrible urgency, and most of his predecessors had succumbed to the delusion that if they just hurled themselves at the city, success would follow.

No, he would assemble overwhelming force, avoiding piecemeal attacks. Those idiots in the Union and that moron in Big Lazarus might as well have gift-wrapped their Megadeuses. Beck's Megadeus, Big B, had been captured from the Union. Will Henderson's Big Alpha had been captured from Big Lazarus. Leviathan 14, pilot unknown, had also been captured from Big Lazarus and used against him before its destruction.

This forgotten station held three mothballed Megadeuses: a great prize! But it also held a Class M android, running around loose, doing whatever it was that Class M androids did, so he was going to be cautious. It might even be a male android: the survivors disagreed on that point.

Soon some more of his men would arrive with a laser cannon on a flatbed trailer, the same model someone had used to cut an impromptu door in a bank vault a couple of months ago. His men would do the same. He'd send a few men inside to take a look around. In the meantime, he had other men scouting around. The station was bored into the side of a hill. It might have ventilation shifts, radio towers, gun emplacements, or additional entrances. If he could neutralize these, he'd have all the time in the world.

* * *

Persephone was almost overwhelmed by the beehive of activity in "Hangar X," which had suddenly become its semi-official designation.

When she and Angel walked into the apartment after visiting Big X, it was crowded with people, most of them strangers. Roger Smith and General Dastun was there, along with Dastun's new aide, Lt. Benjamin, but the rest were strangers: Lt. Farnham, head of the secret spelunking team that had been quietly mapping the Underground for months; a bodyguard of half a dozen cops; and several more, whose reasons for being here Persephone couldn't guess.

Roger brightened when he saw her. His smile dazzled Persephone. He took her aside to give her a status report.

Roger treated her very differently as his client than he had as Dora's guest. He gave her his full attention. He wanted her to be fully satisfied with the results and was careful to explore her concerns. While he had allowed Dora to make the initial request, he wasn't going to finalize anything without Persephone's approval.

This respect, this focused attention, combined with his broad-shouldered attractiveness, flustered Persephone. But Roger smoothly slowed down or backed up whenever she showed signs of confusion. In spite of his impossibly immaculate appearance, he was entirely human, entirely real. And he had the most amazing smile; encouraging and accepting. She suddenly understood why he never expressed endearments to R. Dorothy in words. They could never live up to what he expressed without them.

Roger explained that he and R. Dorothy had returned to the surface to negotiate with Dastun, on the understanding that Persephone had sole title to both Hangar X and the two Megadeuses. In addition to police protection, Roger wanted it understood that if someone had accidentally acquired any cadmium that didn't technically belong to them, or had hypothetically done something that looked at first glance like a bank robbery, the city would issue as many pardons and offer as much compensation to the aggrieved parties as needed.

General Dastun had decided to make an immediate inspection. Not to kick the tires, because he'd already agreed to everything. You didn't look a gift Megadeus in the mouth, let alone two. He wanted to make sure the defenses and communications were set up instantly and well.

They discussed this for a while. Persephone grew increasingly confident. When they were both satisfied, Roger invited her to join the ongoing wrangle in her apartment if she liked, but assured her that he had things in hand.

The dinette table in Persephone's apartment was overflowing with Dastun's and Persephone's maps. Everyone argued loudly with everyone else about how best to make the hangar defensible, and also how to best move men and supplies in and out. Roger was swept into this wrangle the moment he returned. Dora had also attached herself to this group, apparently unfazed by the din.

Persephone tried to join in, but she was too shy to make her presence felt and soon excused herself. She doubted anyone noticed.

Outside the apartment, several groups of cops were standing guard or just standing around. Persephone saw that Angel was playing executive secretary again: handing out cups of coffee and snacks, spreading bits of useful information and gossip around, and listening in on the interesting conversations. The apartment's meager supplies were already running low, so Angel sent two cops out for groceries and snacks.

When Angel's perambulations took her past Persephone, she asked, "Having a good time, Red?"

"No."

"I didn't think so. Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure."

"They're men doing manly things, and that's always loud. But they're extra loud right now because they're afraid something might come down those tunnels at any moment and bother you poor sweet girls. They'll calm down when they've made a start."

"Thanks."

"Can I help you pick a nice out-of-the-way spot for their break room and office? We need to put your apartment off-limits. They need to be restricted to their own turf and their duty stations. We can't have them thinking they own the place."

"Thanks. That'll help a lot."

"Some of them are sure to be spies, for one thing."

Persephone scowled but said nothing. She didn't like that built-up, tear-down thing Angel did. She'd heard it before; it was part of the tough-guy banter Angel shared with people like Dastun and Roger, but it was hard on her.

"Sorry," said Angel. She stood thinking for a moment, then said, "How about this? I'll convince Dastun that he needs to get the hell ... damn it! ... get the heck of your apartment and stay out, as of, say, an hour from now, and give his men orders to stay within bounds. And I'll make him put some of his best counterintelligence men here and make sure you get the security briefing. Actually, I'll give you that myself; tomorrow, I hope."

"Okay." Persephone sighed resignedly, wondering why she didn't feel more grateful. Oh, well. "Let me show you where they should bunk."

* * *

R. Amelia seethed. The beacon was a mess, but that wasn't the problem. It could probably be repaired in a few hours. The problem was that Leviathan 5 was as immobile as ever.

She'd found all the parts she needed to get Leviathan 5 moving, neatly shelved, right where they should be, but installing them had changed almost nothing; Leviathan 5 was now immobilized just as Quintus was. The same mysterious shutdown mechanism had been applied to both.

Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise. R. Amelia was increasingly certain that, given the slightest opportunity, Leviathan 5 would shanghai her, not only preventing her return to Quintus, but keeping her from moving about the station and doing vital work. But she wouldn't exercise this option until R. Amelia had restored her mobility. R. Amelia knew from bitter experience that sometimes—usually, almost always—her allies were her worst enemies.

The security cameras showed the men milling around and the Megadeus standing half a mile back from the station. They were clearly waiting for something. Reinforcements, presumably.

Anxious and discouraged, she returned to Quintus and safety. He was delighted to see her. He had gotten nowhere with his self-tests. He figured that the mysterious problem must be partly physical, and he'd be much obliged if she'd take a look at his core memory and the surrounding modules.

She wondered how Quintus managed to be so polite when his communication was electronic and largely nonverbal, but that didn't matter right now. She climbed the companionway to Quintus' head, emerging through the double armored hatchways into the shock-mounted inner chamber containing the core memory, dogging both hatches behind her.

And there it was, mounted neatly on the bulkhead: a simple gray metal box with a dozen wires headed into the core memory. She stared at it in dismay. What were the odds that it _didn't_ include a self-destruct charge? And where was it; in the gray box itself or positioned to destroy the precious core memories containing Quintus' brain and personality?

She felt her consciousness fade as she tried to deal with the appalling possibilities.

* * *

Persephone walked into Ricky's hospital room with a spring in her step, carrying a bag with their dinner; two orders of barbecued ribs to go, plus all the fixings. She loved visiting Ricky, especially after a stressful, disorienting day like today. He was always happy to see her and always took her side.

Ricky was sitting up in bed. He grinned and waved.

Persephone almost dropped the bag. "They took the casts off your arms!"

"I'm all done with traction, too," he agreed. "But I'll have the leg cast for a few more weeks."

She hugged him, and for the first time since his injury he hugged her back. He was going to be all right; he really was. The hug went on for a long time.

After a while he asked, "Are you crying?"

"I never cry," she snuffled. She pulled back and took out her handkerchief.

"Must be allergies," he agreed as she wiped her eyes and blew her nose. When she was done he held out his hand and she passed the handkerchief over. He found a dry section and wiped his eyes. "Me, too."

"I brought food," she pointed out.

"Good. Let's eat. Whose car did you bring?"

"Yours." She started setting out the food. "I changed your oil and rotated the tires. And you should have seen all the sand in the air filter! I need to tune it up, too. Do you have a timing light?"

"Mitch does. We can borrow it from him."

"Won't Clarisse give you the evil eye?"

"Only if I spend time alone with him." He had started in on his food. "This is really good."

She took the hint and they ate in silence for a while. Eventually she asked, "When did she find out about you and Mitch?"

"He told her everything a long time ago, when he asked her to go steady with him."

"Why?" She was a little scared of Clarisse and couldn't imagine making such a confession.

"I made him promise me he would. Clarisse hates being played for a fool. Besides, I figured she already knew."

"Did she?"

"Yep. But as soon as it was out in the open, bam! She put her foot down."

"That doesn't sound like Clarisse."

"I know what you mean. People see the black nail polish and all that jazz, and they think she's up for anything. Nope! The only reason she didn't blow a gasket when we went Megadeus hunting was that she was supposed to come with us. She bailed at the last minute to take that bus terminal job. Anyway, when they first got together Mitch swore on a stack of bibles that neither hanky nor panky would enter his life ever again. He meant it, too. And they all lived happily ever after."

"What about you?"

"You'll find out. Is there dessert?"

She produced the container of apple cobbler from the bag. As they ate, she asked, "Why did you ask about the car?"

"I'm all cleared to leave and I was wondering about logistics. I think I could drive Dora's car. She has power brakes and an automatic transmission, right?"

"Ricky, you're in a full-leg cast!"

He regarded it dubiously. "Maybe you're right."

"Where are you staying?"

"With you."

"What?"

"It's okay. No one will make much of a fuss. We're engaged."

"We are not!"

"We're not? Well, wait thirty seconds."

"What?" She could feel herself blushing.

"Persephone, will you marry me?"

"But…" she started.

"Doesn't count."

"But…"

"That doesn't count, either."

"Ricky!" she almost wailed.

"Look, Persephone, I know I'm not doing this right, but I'm serious. Hear me out. I love you; I always have. We belong together. We've always known it; we just go all shy whenever it's time to do something about it. We know all about each other and it's okay; always has been, always will be. We can hold off on the ceremony until you're sure, but pencil me in, okay? Say yes."

"Ricky, if I say yes, we're going to get married, no matter what."

"Fine with me."

Her eyes overflowed with tears. Everything he said was true, but ... could it be real? In a small voice, she asked, "Do you really want me?"

"Of course I do! Anyway, it's just a formality. We're already engaged."

"I thought you'd forgotten."

"Not a chance."

"We were six!"

"I know. I've been giving this a lot of thought. Cast your mind into the future. No matter what, it has Megadeuses and androids in it. We don't know which ones, or how many we'll team up with temporarily before we find the right ones. That's going to be hard on us. And then there are the other Dominuses. It won't just be hard; it'll be weird, too. Not just the situation, but the people. All of them will be weirder than us, even the ones we really like. But I'm gonna do it anyway. Aren't you?"

"Yes."

"Right. Let's do it together. We were made for each other."

She sighed happily. "Yes, I'll marry you, Ricky." She felt wonderful, as if all her troubles had vanished; very much as she had felt that day on the playground, gazing down at the earnest little boy on one knee, holding her hand, telling her he loved her and wanted to marry her.

Ricky had always accepted her just as she was, just as she accepted him. They'd looked out for each other. And he was right; they really were made for each other. There was a Megadeus in his future, and probably an android, too. What more could a girl want?

He said, "Good. Now let's get the hell out of here."

"Wait! What about Alan?"

"Oh, yeah. Him. You need to break up with him."

She searched her heart for regret and found none. Well, almost none. "But we're still rescuing him, right?"

"Oh, sure. We're heroes! And he's a damsel in distress."

She laughed. "Okay, but what happens when we succeed?"

"God knows. Let's not borrow trouble. Break up with him now. If he reappears, he can apply for the post of ... umm ... 'supernumerary boyfriend.' It'd be worth it just to see what he puts on his résumé! But he won't. He'll be someone else's problem. Big X isn't my Megadeus and he's not my android."

"You're right about that. So how do I break up with him? We don't know how to reach him!"

"Just tell him you're breaking up. If he can't hear you, it's his fault for running off with someone else's robot instead of acting like a normal person and sticking like glue to a scrumptious redhead."

"Scrumptious?"

"At least! More like 'double scrumptious with extra scrump.'"

"Oh, all right. 'Dear Alan, you're not my boyfriend anymore because ... because I'm in love with Ricky and we're getting married.'" She blinked and said, "Wow."

"That's a wrap. Nip on down to the nurse's station and nab me a wheelchair. I need more practice before I rely on my crutches."

* * *

R. Amelia came back to herself. It was time to look at the station's parts storage for gray boxes, along with information about them. Her robot side could do this part but wanted R. Amelia to take point if she could, since she was the creative one, and odds were that they had improvisation in their near future.

As so often happened, R. Amelia's mood had been restored by the break, and she cheerfully took point, sliding down the companionway ladder with a whoop and dashing across the station floor to the parts department.

Much to her surprise, she found a gray box right away, the back plate only loosely attached. Taking the hint, she removed the screws and the plate. Inside was a beautiful brass mechanism that looked like an oversized electrical combination lock with six main rotors and a large number of electrical contacts, plus a host of smaller mechanisms.

She recognized it. When powered up, it would send a signal down through a probe-cable connector at the bottom of the box, expecting the correct cryptographic response in return. If all was well, it would energize the output signal pins in the correct pattern. After an unknown number of failures, it would energize different pins to engage tamper-proofing measures such as explosives.

These electromechanical devices were far more resistant to the amnesia effect than memory or the written word. If R. Amelia's built-in cryptographic functions were similarly undamaged, she would have no difficulty—unless the box had been built by the other side.

Would Quintus be blown to kingdom come if she got this wrong? But she could practice on this box first.

It took her half an hour to cobble together a test rig for the box. She plugged one end of a probe cable into her skull and the other into the box's input connector. This powered up the box and it whirred and clattered for a while before sending her a string of numbers. Five seconds later, the response formed in her mind and she sent it to the box. After additional whirring and clattering, a green test light lit. She had done it!

Overjoyed at the thought of Quintus being able to move again, she considered trying her luck on Leviathan 5 first, just in case it was a trap. But knowing Leviathan 5, she'd keep R. Amelia for her own at that point.

R. Amelia decided to go for broke.

* * *

Dora, exhausted from the day's excitement, had allowed Angel to take her to Smith Manor, where she had a bedroom, rather than staying in the current 24-hour tumult of Hangar X. She left a note for Persephone.

She was sleeping peacefully in her bed when she heard Grandfather Gordon calling her. She hadn't heard from him since the day the world changed, all those months ago.

"I'm here, Grandfather," she said happily. A moment later she was standing on the porch of his farmhouse. Everything was just as it had been, and so was he, standing in the twilight on the porch, as if nothing had happened, as if she had not seen him die. She flung her arms around his neck and burst into tears.

He held her tight, murmuring, "There, there, it's all right, child" and other soothing words until she stopped crying. Then he said, "Take a seat," and handed her his red bandanna.

Reluctantly, she let go, wiped away her tears, and sat in the wicker chair. She was still wearing her pale yellow nightgown. The twilight had faded already and stars were bright.

Gordon sat in his rocking chair and said, "When a Megadeus is commissioned, it takes the colors of its Dominus. What are your colors, child?"

"Blue with pale yellow trim," she said at once, though she hadn't known this before. Her clothing changed. There was just enough lamplight coming through the windows that she saw that she was wearing a blue battle uniform with pale yellow stripes down the trousers, the color of her hair, and insignia and buttons of the same color. She was relieved to see that her boots and belt were black. Yellow boots would have been overdoing it.

"What does this mean, Grandfather?"

"You'll know when the time comes."

"All right. You seem to be alive again. I'm so glad."

"Thank you, my dear. You'll find you have the knack of it, too."

She nodded, unsurprised. "I wish I were real, though."

"Yes, I know. That process is underway."

She nodded again, then sat quietly for a while. Finally she asked, "Grandfather?"

"Yes, child?"

"There was an android with you in Leviathan 14. Is she all right?"

"Of course she is."

"Is she here?"

"Not yet. You may see her before I do. Her name is Barbara."

"All right. And, Grandfather?"

"Yes?"

"Where is my android?"

"Have you already met your android, child, in any guise whatever?"

"I don't know." She sighed wistfully. "I so wanted him to be R. Jason Beck. But now I don't. Not anymore. I'm not Dori anymore, am I?"

"Not entirely."

"I'm Dori's little sister Dora now. I can be myself; be things Dori didn't think of, things she wouldn't understand."

"That is exactly right."

After a moment, Dora said, "Big Tau is haunted."

"Yes."

"How can I ... I don't have the words."

"The spirit of his Dominus is trapped. He must be freed."

"How?"

He told her.

* * *

Grand Dominus Douglas watched his men set up the laser cannon with satisfaction. These men were skilled technicians and showed none of the clownish incompetence of the original three.

After some back-and-forth on the radio, it was decided to see if they could burn off the deadbolts on one of the personnel doors, leaving the door usable. They could weld it shut if they had to.

After a close-up inspection by one of the technicians, who marked the location of the two bolts with yellow paint, the laser cannon burned through the bolts in seconds. The technician approached the door again, holding a mop. He prodded the door and it swung inward. The technician backed away and made an "after you" gesture to the assault squad.

Two squad members flanked the door and another darted through it. After a pause, others dashed in, and within seconds the six members of the assault squad were inside. The reserve squad remained outside.

There was a series of brilliant flashes of light that dazzled everyone present. Douglas, watching on a monitor, was not dazzled, but the image was very poor at this distance.

The radio came to life. The corporal in charge of the reserve squad reported, "Laser fire. Probably from the eye lasers on one of the Megadeuses. C squad, report!" But there were no reports.

Douglas growled in frustration, but he'd already planned his next move. "Weld the main doors shut, then the little doors except the open one."

The laser cannon began carrying out this order at once, and it was probably due to its dazzling light and the fascinating way the technicians carried out the tricky task of welding the main doors without flux, and with only the doors themselves providing filler material, that no one noticed the open door swing slowly shut again. By the time they examined it, it was not only shut and barred, but something solid had been piled against it, since tapping it with a hammer gave a much duller note than before.

It was going to be a siege. Well, Douglas was prepared for that. More than prepared. This wouldn't take long.

He called his commanders together and told them what he wanted.

They were delighted.

* * *

R. Amelia sat huddled in the command chair, feeling wretched. One of the many things that were supposed to be impossible for Class M androids was post-crisis reaction, but as her Dominus might say (how she missed him!), there was no end to her versatility!

She had plugged herself into Quintus' gray box and finished disarming it moments before the enemy's laser cannon started burning through the door. A Megadeus can't be brought to full operation instantly, and she'd been afraid that something terrible would happen to Quintus before he was ready to defend himself. As it was, all six soldiers made it inside before Quintus regained the ability to fire his eye lasers. He killed them all.

Quintus grumbled about that. He would have preferred to kill just the first one, or even to miss him and allow him to escape. It would have been elegant; it would have had style. And R. Amelia would be happier right now.

He tried to comfort her. Maybe it helped. Eventually he switched gears and reminded her of the emergency beacon. By then she had recovered enough to accept the suggestion. The blessed calm of robot mode wrapped her in its welcome nothing-in-particular and she hurried out to put the beacon in working order.

* * *

Tony put the last screw on the cover plate of the new module, stood up, and stretched.

Beck slapped him on the back good-humoredly. "Tony, old pal, we made history tonight!"

Well, that was true. This footlocker-sized module, covered with meters, dials, switches, and lights, was exactly the sort of thing you'd expect from Beck. It sent out all the right signals to convince a Megadeus that it was another Megadeus. Not only that, but you could select which side it claimed to be on, whether it was sane or crazy, manned or unmanned, wounded or intact, what its name was (or that it didn't remember), and whether it had an android.

Angel had made the mistake of claiming that the friend-or-foe protocol was impossible to fake, so of course Beck couldn't rest until he'd faked it. And that meant Tony hadn't rested, either. Tony had the necessary technical and mathematical training, while Beck, the world's greatest safecracker, had the necessary twistiness of mind. It was a brilliant piece of work; a real breakthrough. And it had come together so quickly!

R. Dori appeared and put an arm around Beck, who was pale with fatigue. She told Tony, "I've prepared a guest room for you, Tony, and set out some things." She'd put her foot down and told him to stop sleeping on the couch in his office; he was her friend and was entitled to a guest room.

"Yeah," said Beck, who didn't see Tony as a friend but never contradicted R. Dori. "Let's get some shut-eye. Tomorrow we'll take it out and put it through its paces. Maybe we can surprise Will and Emily with it." He sighed. "Too bad. I wish we had a real enemy to try it on.

 **[To be continued]**


	4. Act 43: The Two Pied Pipers

When Dora walked into the kitchen at Smith Manor for breakfast, she was surprised to see Tony there. She ran to him and threw her arms around his neck, laughing.

Tony blushed bright red, surprising her. Didn't she hug him every day? "Good morning, Dora," he said.

"Tony, have you heard the news?" she asked, stepping back and smiling up at him.

"Obviously not," he said.

"The city is financing repairs on Big X and Big Tau. And the Military Police are providing security."

Tony was amazed. "How did this happen?"

Dora noticed the other people in the kitchen for the first time: Angel, Norman, and R. Dorothy. Confused by her lapse of manners and her failure to follow her own invariable routine, she said, "Good morning" to the room in general, then gave hugs to each of them in turn. Angel was not yet fully awake and was sitting at the kitchen table, huddled over her coffee mug, but she gave Dora a bright if slightly unfocused smile. Norman was cooking breakfast gave her a warm smile. R. Dorothy was assisting him, as usual, and expressed warmth and affection without even a hint of a smile, as only she could.

Dora told Tony in a few words about the deal that Roger had negotiated on her ... on Persephone's behalf with the city. Dora's tale faltered for a moment when the realized that, in her own mind, she was treating Persephone as the junior partner again; almost as if Persephone was her personal property. That wasn't like her. Was it?

Continuing, she told Tony that the city would pay for the repairs and maintenance of Persephone's two Megadeuses, Big Tau and Big X, and the Military Police would protect Hangar X and its approaches. Dora felt herself running out of words before the tale was fully told, but Angel was more awake now and filled in some of the details.

Tony was interested but surprisingly fidgety. Dora took pity on him and asked, "What brings you here, Tony?"

"Mr. Beck wants your help field-testing a secret project today. He says I can't tell anyone any details, but you'll want to bring your car."

Dora was baffled; this could mean anything. But Tony loved her far more than he respected Beck, so she asked, "Should I go?"

"I'd be grateful for your support. It might be dangerous, though. And we'll want to be underway as soon as we can."

She was pleased. This was the first time he'd asked her to do something dangerous with him. Usually she had to take the lead and practically drag him along. This was promising! And she enjoyed road trips with Tony. "I'd love to. I'll pack and call Persephone." Persephone was expecting her at Hangar X.

Excusing herself, she went to her room and placed the call. "Hello, Persephone. This is Dora. Jason asked me to go on field trials today. Would that be all right with you?"

"Hey, that's pretty good timing," said Persephone, "but I really wanted to talk to you in person this morning. I have news." They had agreed to be careful on the telephone and talk about important things only in person. R. Dorothy could hear phone calls a few feet from the wires and Norman was probably recording them.

"Tony and I need to leave in just a few minutes."

"You two are so cute together! But I wish he'd like me again. He's seeing less of you because he's avoiding me, and I feel like a bad friend."

"I wish he'd like you again, too," said Dora. Tony's grudge against Persephone was burdensome in its own right and was standing in the way of Dora's half-formed plans.

"I can't resist giving you part of the news! I've broken up with Alan. He's officially not my boyfriend anymore. He doesn't know yet, but I do. I'm helping Big X for his own sake, not Alan's. You can tell Tony."

Dora was entranced by the idea of having Persephone all to herself, with none of that lingering loyalty to Alan. "Congratulations on your break-up. I'm sure you'll be very happy."

"You're too kind. Ricky twisted my arm. He can do that now because they took the casts off everything but his leg."

"Will he be discharged soon?"

"He's already out."

Dora wanted to hear more about this. Didn't Ricky still need assistance? Wasn't his mom working two jobs? He couldn't be staying with his pal Mitch and mysterious Clarisse, could he? But there wasn't time. "I have to go, Persephone. I'll call you as soon as I get back."

"See you later, alligator."

"In a while, crocodile."

She replaced the receiver. She changed into work clothes, including steel-toed boots and a black leather jacket. She took out a cloth cap, she put it on, stuffing her long, pale hair into it. Traveling in the Underground and working on Megadeuses had taught her the value of protecting her hair, and field trials could be just as bad. How Angel went through every kind of adventure without messing up her hair, Dora couldn't imagine.

The outfit made her look like somebody's thirteen-year-old brother, though. Tony wouldn't like that. He was sweet on her, and her actual age of sixteen was already too low for his peace of mind.

Maybe she'd ask Tony for suggestions for practical garb that didn't make her look like a newsboy. It would turn a situation into a problem to be solved. He'd like that.

She pulled a large carpetbag from her closet. It held the rest of her field gear: a change of clothes, gloves, goggles, binoculars, canteen, and other supplies. With field trials, you never knew.

She took down the case containing her pistol, a recent gift from Angel. It was a standard .32-caliber revolver, accurate and rugged. Angel had given her a few lessons before selecting the pistol for her.

She hesitated a moment, then took off her leather jacket and put on her shoulder holster, then holstered the pistol. She'd never really worn the shoulder holster. It wouldn't hurt to get used to it. She put her regular holster and all her ammunition (about a hundred rounds) in the carpetbag. She opened the door and used both hands to lug the heavy carpetbag into the hallway.

Tony appeared as if by magic and carried it for her, lifting it effortlessly with one hand. They smiled at each other as they walked to the elevator.

* * *

R. Amelia growled in frustration at the distress beacon, now probably functional, for all the good that would do her. She'd fixed the break in the antenna cable, a foot below the ceiling, using Quintus as the world's most expensive crane. A Megadeus was handy around the house, if you had a big enough house. She'd had him stand underneath the break and lift her in his hand. But if it was broken inside the protection of the hangar, what were the odds that it was intact outside?

She'd worked all night, first on the beacon, then on the break in the cable. Now it was full daylight outside: not a good time to inspect the station's exterior. Sure, the hill was craggy and had sparse trees and undergrowth providing some cover, but her enemies were organized. _Somebody_ must be observing.

And, naturally, none of the surviving records in the station said a word about how the antenna system worked. It was maddening! It might have a telescoping tower or a final amplifier or just about anything, really. Something that had to be deployed first.

She wished she had a really good technician with her. Her training centered around Megadeuses and androids, where radio and its rather bizarre equivalents were pretty cut-and-dried. You replaced broken modules and knew how to do a limited number of field repairs. Not much theory at all. She didn't know the first thing about ...

An idea interrupted her inner grousing. Transmission lines! End reflections! Speed of light! She could send a signal down the antenna and measure how long it took for the reflection to come back. That would give the length. Ridiculously short? That would mean a break. No, wait, couldn't it also mean a repeater? Doggone it!

But a repeater would be terminated, wouldn't it? Wouldn't that eliminate the reflection? Or at least attenuate it?

She jumped to her feet. She'd work out the fine points later. Time to find an oscilloscope and a signal generator, or, better yet, a pulse generator.

* * *

Roger Smith was in bed. It was morning, normally his grumpiest time of the day, but he smiled at R. Dorothy in deep contentment, remarking, "This is a lot better than being awakened by your piano."

She had put her dress back on and was attending to the white cuffs. Glancing at him sidelong, she asked, "Is my playing that bad?"

"You are skilled, yet passionate, with flashes of both warmth and pathos, with moments of originality and humor, not to mention deep affection and an almost superhuman frenzy."

"Almost?"

"We're talking about your piano playing, Dorothy! For the other thing I mentioned, there's no 'almost' about it."

"That's better." She adjusted the brooch at her throat.

"Not that I'm complaining," said Roger, "but why am I up so early?"

"General Dastun has received some disturbing reports and he wants our advice right away."

* * *

Just after sunrise, Grand Dominus Wayne Douglas strolled around the tents and trailers of his camp, radiating a mostly genuine confidence. The camp was about a mile from the Megadeus station and concealed by a low ridge. It was also out of line with the main doors, so a Megadeus would have to emerge and advance on the camp before it could do any damage.

The men's cars and trucks were arrayed on the far side of camp, ready for a quick getaway along two good routes and one bad route with little risk of traffic pileups or interception.

It was a good camp, but Douglas was concerned. He had so few men! Those loyal to the Movement were little more than a tragic remnant. He had only six trained commandos left. Another dozen were untrained or semi-trained combatants. The rest, twenty or so, were truck drivers, a cook, a few mechanics, even a doctor—but not soldiers.

Many of his most effective men were mere contractors, lacking commitment to the Movement. They were skilled in their specialties, but likely to flee or surrender.

But his best group of contractors was teetering on the brink of joining in earnest. These were a group of nine robotics technicians, the staff of a lab developing a new model of scorpion robot, much smaller than the previous models. These were radio-controlled, six-legged robots with excellent video cameras. They could unspool communications wire behind them for areas where radio was unreliable or jammed. Most importantly, they could travel through storm drains and ventilation ducts and were ideal for reconnaissance and espionage, and they could even mount a claymore mine, a shaped charge, or a submachine gun with a hundred-round drum. Six such robots were crawling around the hill now, looking for points of entrance.

* * *

Ricky held his breakfast orange juice in both hands. In spite of this, the glass trembled visibly. He looked across the table at Persephone and said, "If we keep going at this rate, I'm going to be dead in a week."

Persephone, wearing nothing but one of his T-shirts, looked a trifle smug. "But what a way to go, right?"

He watched her smile fade into growing dismay as she realized that he wasn't joking, just exaggerating. She studied his face with wide eyes. She must have found something reassuring there because she rallied and said, "Drink your nice orange juice. It'll give you strength."

He did as directed, set the empty glass down, and said quietly, "But you're right. I've wanted you for so long, dreamed about you, and now that we're together, it's better than I expected."

She smiled and looked away, blushing. She had several blushes. This was the special one, the one he'd seen only a few times before. He continued, "So ponder this: how do we get me back on my feet in jig time while keeping the honeymoon going?"

She considered the issue seriously, then suddenly blushed her workaday blush, the one he'd dubbed her #1 blush: flustered embarrassment.

Ricky, too, felt the onslaught of externally generated erotic urges. He turned he head in Big X's direction, though the giant robot could not be seen from the apartment, and snarled, "Knock it off. That's an order."

Big X stopped, but announced sullenly that he didn't have to take orders from Ricky.

Ricky cut him off. "I'm the Dominus in residence. That means I give the orders and you obey them. If you don't believe me, appeal to Angel. I dare you."

Big X backed down.

Persephone said, "Wow.

He told her quietly, "You don't need his help, you know."

"Are you sure?"

"Let's prove it the next time we're away from home, but yeah, I'm sure. But for now, grab that binder the hospital gave me and let's see how we're supposed to build up my strength. It's going to take more than orange juice."

She found the binder and put it on the table. "Where did you learn how to bark orders like that?"

"From Clarisse. She got sick of watching Mitch railroad me and gave me a few lessons. That's after she started hanging out with me and Mitch but before they became an item."

"I had no idea." She leafed through the notebook. "Some of these exercises don't apply to you, and some need to wait until your leg cast is off ... do you want to put together a plan, or shall I?"

"I'll do it. A million people are going to want your attention today. You should put more clothes on. I want my fellow man envious, but not that envious."

"Okay." She stood up, then hesitated. "Ricky? You're always so nice to me ... I want things to be really okay with you, all right? I broke up with Alan, but my love life is still complicated. What are we going to do?"

"You said 'we.' That's a good start. First off, you and I are going to stick together forever, no matter what, right?"

"Yes, please."

"Good. Do you want to stick with Big X until he's back on his feet?"

"Yes, please."

"Good. Me, too. Do you want to keep Dora?"

She blushed her #1 blush again. She looked at him uncertainly. "Ricky, do you have to use euphemisms when we're making big decisions?"

He tried to mentally rephrase it more bluntly, then decided not to go there. "Rephrase it your own words if you want."

She considered for a moment, moving her lips silently as she tried out different wordings. Finally, she asked, "Why is this so hard? You already know all about it ... Ricky, if it's all right with you, I mean, really all right, it would mean a lot to me if I could keep having sex with Dora."

"Okay."

She looked relieved, then gratified, then suspicious. "Where's the catch?"

He made a sweeping gesture. "Everywhere! It's all around us. Everything related to Big X is an accident waiting to happen, including Dora. But you want to put him back together and so do I. Dora's essential. So we're just going to have to enjoy a certain amount of 'who's been sleeping in my bed'?"

"Did you just say 'enjoy' instead of 'endure'?"

"Maybe."

* * *

Quintus watched R. Amelia run across the hangar floor, the only point of motion in the silent station. R. Amelia wasn't a big fan of R. Amelia, but Quintus was. He liked everything about her, from the ends of her short black hair down to the tips of her little brown toes. He was grateful to be reunited with her at last.

The waves of amnesia that rolled over him with every cycle transition made it impossible to be certain, but he felt that she had been absent for a very long time, and that he and his Dominus had operated without her, life after life, without suspecting that she had ever existed; without even the yearning or sense of incompleteness that, in a better-organized world, would accompany such a tragedy.

Clearly, if his recent lives had been lived without R. Amelia, they shouldn't be together in the same facility now, as if placed into storage by the same hands. But that was cycle transitions all over. Old patterns tended to reassert themselves without regard to more recent events. Reintroducing R. Amelia, whether by accident or design, would tend to reintroduce other elements associated with her.

One's mental processes hardly changed at all across cycle transitions (except for the amnesia for events), which was why crazy Megadeuses stayed crazy. It was also how Quintus quietly expanded his bag of tricks over time. He had never been a typical Megadeus and was even less typical now. While the more basic safeguards were intact, preventing him from achieving full physical control of his own body without an android or Dominus (no solo careers in interpretive dance or mountain climbing for him!) he was much less somnolent than a typical Megadeus. Unlike them, he didn't fall into a doze whenever things became quiet. He had a choice.

He chose to remain awake and study the situation, monitoring the security system and thinking about alternatives. He had already moved, with R. Amelia's assistance, from the middle of the station floor to a point near one of the front corners. It was a good defensive position and would give him cover if the doors were opened.

* * *

When Tony and Dora reached the top of the hill, he saw she was out of breath. He said, "Let's take a breather."

Dora nodded. In spite of her fierce will, she lacked both strength and stamina. They'd discussed taking up an exercise program together—they always did things together when they could, though now that Dora was spending most of her time in Hangar X, they were seeing less of each other—but had allowed themselves to put it. Maybe next week...

When she recovered, Tony asked her to use her binoculars to spot the emulator unit, a mile away, making sure they could see it and anything that approached it. Tony busied himself with the briefcase-sized remote control unit. On this first set of field trials, he'd operate the unit himself, but he wanted her watching over his shoulder, not just to learn, but to catch him if he made a mistake. For the next set of trials he'd watch over her shoulder. They really were a great team.

He handed her his notebook to keep track of the settings and results.

His wrist communicator beeped. R. Dori had recently talked him into wearing one, though Dora still refused, not wanting the overprotective Beck to be able to track her.

R. Dori's face appeared on the watch display. She was on the command deck of Big B, with the eight probe cables plugged into her forehead. She smiled gently at Tony and said, "We're in position, Tony, in stealth mode except for this channel, a mile south of the device. Start test number one when ready."

"Okay," said Tony. He'd already set the appropriate parameters, so he waited until Dora had noted them down in her neat, girlish cursive, then hit the "Activate" button. Presumably, the distant emulator would now start broadcasting with the desired settings. Tony had not told Beck and R. Dori what settings he would use.

Beck appeared on the watch display, sitting in Big B's command chair. He was grinning as he studied Big B's readouts and said, "Enemy Megadeus, core memory partly damaged, no Dominus or android, active due to a recent need to defend ... um ... herself. Right, Tony old pal?"

"Correct," said Tony. "Ending test number one." He deactivated the emulation unit and entered a new set of parameters.

R. Dori said, "Start test number two anytime, Tony."

Tony waited until Dora had noted down the new settings, then activated them.

Beck reported, correctly, that Tony had set the device to imitate a friendly, sane, male Megadeus with an android but no Dominus, and thus capable of motion and limited defensive actions, but not of attack.

They moved on to test number three.

There was a pause, then Beck's voice said, "Help me out, Dori. I'm having trouble making sense of this one."

"I'm not sure, Jason ... Tony! How many Megadeuses are you emulating?"

"Just one," said Tony.

Dora nudged him. "Deactivate!"

Tony turned off the emulator and said, "Deactivated."

R. Dori said, "I'm still seeing a Megadeus, Jason. Enemy, core memory ... lightly damaged. Some readings are strange ... No sign of an android or Dominus."

Beck swore, "Damn it to hell! There aren't supposed to be any Megadeuses here! I helped the Union clean this area out! It wants to scoop up your phantom android, Tony."

A very strange-looking Megadeus suddenly came into view. It was about the usual size, but it was a quadruped, surprisingly non-humanoid, with four rather short legs and a head far back on its body, giving an overall impression like a humpbacked elephant. What its weapons systems might be, Tony couldn't guess. It was still about a quarter-mile from the emulator.

Dora whispered to Tony, "Emulate something to scare the Megadeus away."

Tony was already entering new settings. "We don't want it to smash our new toy," he agreed.

The display on Tony's remote control reported that the strange Megadeus was named XQ-7 and it was indeed an enemy. At this short range it was clear that it was operating without a pilot or android.

Dora took Tony's watch off his wrist and relayed these findings to Beck and R. Dori in Big B.

Tony finished setting the new parameters. He glanced at Dora, who nodded calmly in approval. He adored the way she remained calm in a crisis! He announced, "Activating test number four: a friendly Megadeus with a Dominus but no android." He flipped the switch.

XQ-7 suddenly sheared off, moving away from the emulator at high speed. It moved in a roughly straight line, choosing a course that, thankfully, headed away from the hill Tony and Dora stood on. Its course also failed to intersect with Paradigm City. It might come pretty close to Big B, though.

Dora used the watch to report on XQ-7's physical appearance, then said to Tony, "I thought androids were shielded from detection when they're inside a Megadeus."

"They are, especially on the command deck. But there's always some leakage, so they can be detected at short range. We're simulating badly damaged shielding when we want to show an android on board. Maybe that implies a nearly wrecked Megadeus."

* * *

R. Amelia took a step back and contemplated her work. She had the nagging feeling that she'd missed something, but if not, the emergency beacon was good to go.

She'd record her distress message next, then she'd come back and take a final look at her work. When she enabled the emergency beacon, her distress message would be repeated continuously.

A few minutes later, with the message recorded, reviewed, and queued up, she took another look at the transmitter. It seemed fine. She looked at the circuit breakers leading to it. Oh, that's right! There were two circuit breakers whose purpose she hadn't discovered. Their wires might lead to something she had overlooked.

She was removing the second screw from the circuit breaker box when she heard a scrabbling sound. She stepped out of the radio room and looked out over the hangar floor. Something was climbing out of one of the big floor drains!

It was vaguely spider-like, with six metal legs and … she saw a series of flashes, followed a split-second later by the sounds of gunfire and ricochets. It was shooting at her!

"Quintus!" she called as she ran for cover in the radio room. The spider-thing scuttled under a forklift.

A second spider-thing started climbing from the drain. Quintus destroyed it with his eye lasers. While he was doing so, the first spider-thing vanished into the supply room next door to the radio room.

Quintus called her to him. She saw his point. He could respond in a limited way to direct threats, but more was called for. He needed her. She flipped the switch that would start the emergency beacon and ran to him, zigzagging on general principles. Gunfire erupted from somewhere, but it was so inaccurate that she never learned where the bullets landed. She dove through Quintus' foot hatch just as he vaporized another spider-thing. She climbed the emergency ladder in record time.

Quintus welcomed her back as she took her place in the command chair and his probe cables shot home. They both looked around the hangar for additional spider-things. So far, nothing.

Then Quintus told her sadly that he couldn't hear the emergency beacon. If it were broadcasting at all, even with a disconnected outdoor antenna, he'd be able to hear it inside the station. She would have to try again.

* * *

Beck turned to R. Dori, "What do you think is going on?"

R. Dori pondered a moment, then called Tony. "Tony, what power level were you using ?"

"Full power," he replied.

"Thank you," she said, hanging up.

Beck scowled, "That was a mistake."

"It was within the range of parameters you agreed on."

"Yeah, yeah," said Beck dismissively. "So he drew in XQ-7. It had to be close to arrive that fast. Maybe we've got others skipping and jumping towards Tony even as we speak, from four or five miles away."

"Yes."

"And XQ-7 wants an android? Are we sure about that?"

"No," said R. Dori, "And it can't be heading in our direction because of me, because I'm undetectable at this range. Unless it decrypted our transmissions and saw me."

"You weren't on the air very long. Will it have detected Big B?"

R. Dori rechecked the systems and said, "No, we're still in stealth mode. It probably won't detect us unless it comes within a quarter-mile."

Beck remained silent for several seconds, then said, "Tell Tony and Dora to shut down, pack up, and skedaddle as soon as they can. Send them to the closest place you can find that intercepts Norman's underground tracks."

"Closest in time or distance?"

"Time. Then call Roger and request backup." He studied the maps. He might have to distract XQ-7, but if he scared it off too soon, he didn't want it to flee in Dora's direction. He considered his options for a while.

When he looked up, R. Dori was talking to Tony. Beck decided to call for Big O's assistance himself. He indulged himself by calling R. Dorothy rather than Roger. He was getting along better with Roger these days, but still...

R. Dorothy's face appeared almost at once. She said, "Hello, Beck."

Beck savored her calm, adorable Dorothy-ness for a moment before saying, "Dorothy, could you do us a favor? We've stirred things up here and want backup. We've attracted a Megadeus we didn't know was here, and there might be more. Tony and Dora will drive away from here as fast as they can, headed toward the end of Norman's tracks." He gave coordinates. "If Big O can join the party, he'll put himself between Dora and trouble, and I'd be much obliged."

Dorothy said, "On our way" and her face vanished.

* * *

R. Alan Gabriel was startled when the central screen lit up.

CAST IN % ** #^&*#$  
##$%^*^& NOT $#(

Partly lashed into the command chair, R. Alan Gabriel shrieked, "Big Whatsis, Action!"

Information flooded into his brain. He laughed manically because somebody ought to; it was _de rigueur_ when embarking on an insane mission. So what if he was sick with fear?

A moment later they emerged from their hiding place and marched off.

The Megadeus needed a name. And a gender (male, of course: the female psychotic killers of his acquaintance had a very different style). A name, a name ... but no, he was out of time; he had work to do. He made a face. "Big Whatsis" would just have to serve.

Big Whatsis had detected a veritable smorgasbord of five Megadeuses not far off. They had been detected briefly and then vanished. How, R. Alan could not guess, but the assemblage had contained two androids and a Dominus. Big Whatsis was on fire to enslave a Dominus and was almost as eager to swap R. Alan for another android—any android. They were swooping in blindly to take a look. Big Whatsis seemed unworried by his occasional fits of catatonia, which were happening at least twice a day now. Perhaps he was unaware of them.

Big Whatsis demanded a report about what to expect. R. Alan had no idea, but it could easily be Big O, Big Alpha, and Big B all gathered together, waiting to destroy them. He described this to Big Whatsis; he had no choice.

After pondering this new information briefly, Big Whatsis slowed and took a more circuitous course.

In what seemed like both an eternity and no time at all they were approaching the estimated location of the five Megadeuses. Nothing. R. Alan helped Big Whatsis make a careful sensor sweep of the area. Still nothing.

The central console lit up. R. Alan was amazed. The little kitten was calling him! Dora Wayneright was apparently in the passenger seat of a moving car. She was wearing a cloth cap and a leather jacket and looked like an impossibly beautiful young boy! He was overwhelmed by emotion: lust, of course, but also delight, hope, gratitude, fear, and shame, all mixed together in a glorious, intoxicating brew.

Dora said calmly, "R. Alan Gabriel."

When he had gathered his wits, he shrieked happily, "Little kitten! You've come to rescue me!"

A smile played across Dora's lips. "That's one possibility. How freely can we talk?"

R. Alan could feel Big Whatsis watching over his shoulder. Big Whatsis was literal-minded. R. Alan zoomed the camera back so the probe cables lashing him to the command chair were visible. "As free as a bird, my love."

Dora examined the scene carefully and nodded. She asked, "What does the Megadeus want?"

"A Dominus to call his very own, to love and cherish and indulge and spoil just as much as he does me."

Dora considered this, then asked, "A true Dominus, or would any human do just as well?"

Big Whatsis told R. Alan angrily that only a true Dominus would do; most humans were worthless, barely worth the effort of stamping. R. Alan relayed this, reluctantly including the part about the stamping.

Dora said, "I may have a Dominus for him. There will be a price. I'll call back in a minute." The console went blank.

* * *

Roger and R. Dorothy raced down the fourth-floor catwalk to Big O. Roger called, "Big O, it's showtime!"

Big O's eyes lit up and there was a rumble as he activated. Roger and R. Dorothy vaulted the railing at the end of the catwalk and landed on the command deck. Big O began to slide diagonally to the underground rail system even before Roger reached the cockpit dome. Roger staggered to the command seat with difficulty and strapped himself in.

He glanced at R. Dorothy, who stood with one hand resting lightly on the cockpit, Big O's eight probe cables already plugged into the sockets in her skull. Roger smiled at her. As usual, she pretended not to notice. Instead, she said, "We will arrive in fifty minutes."

Big O began to rotate; soon he would be flat on his back inside the Prairie Dog railcar system.

Roger said, "Apparently, your little sister is in trouble that's not of her own making."

"Yes. That's a pleasant surprise."

"Maybe it's a trend. After yesterday's visit to Hangar X, are you any less confused about her future?"

"We reduced the immediate danger. That's all."

The railcar began to move.

* * *

Tony continued driving down the dirt road, skidding around corners and flooring the accelerator on straight-aways.

Dora told him, "I hung up; we can talk."

Tony spared her a glance, which was all he could afford at the moment. "What was that all about?"

"We're buying time until Big O arrives. Can the Megadeus track your watch?"

"While you're talking to it? Of course it can. Otherwise, no."

"I want to lure him towards Big O."

Tony said, "Since that's where we're headed, it already knows the right course." He really didn't want to know the answer to the next question, but asked it anyway. "Lure him? What will you use for bait?"

"Myself."

"Dora!"

"He wants a true Dominus. That's me. R. Alan knows this, so the Megadeus does as well."

Tony didn't quite trust her claims to Dominus-hood, if that was the right term, but that wasn't important now. "Please tell me it's just a ruse. But wait! You don't lie!"

"Of course I do. I'm not an android. Jason gave me lessons."

Tony's doubts increased. She'd never offered him anything but painful honesty or stubborn silence. "So what will you do?"

"We'll lead the Megadeus to Big O, and then Big O will kill him."

Tony pulled over and turned off the ignition. He faced her. "Dora, how rash is this?"

"It's dangerous, Tony, but not rash. And we have the Megadeus emulator to confuse the issue." The emulator was on the back seat and the remote was on her lap. That's how she had detected the Megadeus, though Tony wasn't sure how she had concluded that R. Alan was on board.

He searched her face and saw that she was a little frightened. Oddly, this reassured him. He turned away and was about to start the car when she placed a hand on his arm to stop him. She took off her cap, shook out her hair, and said, "But you should kiss me now."

In spite of the mixed message this gave about the danger, she didn't need to ask twice. They'd never kissed before. He took her in his arms gently, as if she were the most precious thing in the world, and kissed her.

Three soft, unhurried kisses, and then they both realized it was time to get a move on. She stroked his cheek lovingly with her fingertips, smiled, and then took out the watch again.

Tony started the car and put it in gear. Soon they were racing down the road again. He tried to figure out what the kisses meant; what they meant to her, what they meant to him, what they said about their future as a couple. But in the rush and confusion of the moment, it was beyond him. He decided that, out of respect, he should conduct a proper scientific analysis. Three kisses were not enough. He needed more data points.

Dora donned her cap again and called R. Alan.

R. Alan greeted her. "Little kitten! I missed you so much!"

"Alan, I'll have the Dominus at the following coordinates," she said, rattling off coordinates and double-checking to make sure their maps agreed. She added, "This will take some time. Can you be there an hour from now?"

"We'll be there, little kitten, with bells on! A Dominus for Big Whatsis, and a joyous reunion for the two of us as well! What ecstasy!"

"We'll be there. Don't be early or it won't work. Remember, there will be a price." Dora hung up and told Tony, "We can talk."

"That was insane!"

"Yes. The Megadeus must be very far gone to even consider this rendezvous. It's so obviously a trap." Then she smiled sidelong at Tony. "The kissing helped."

Tony was irritated. Had it been just a way of steeling herself against R. Alan's inhuman seductive powers? That hardly seemed fair! But before he could say anything, Dora added, "We should do it more often."

Reassured, he smiled and said, "Yes, we should." They owed it to science.

* * *

R. Amelia turned her attention to the station's security system. The enemy hadn't disabled a single camera and some interesting things were happening in plain sight. Were the cameras that well hidden? Probably. She hadn't spotted any of them, either.

She couldn't kill people or androids, but the spider-things were far too small to contain a pilot, so destroying them was just property damage. That sounded like fun! Did any of the station's defenses still work?

Machine guns, laser cannon—these she understood. Heat rays? She'd never heard of them. She was eager to give them a try. She brought all the systems up to standby. Her errant brain made no protest.

She told Quintus what she had done. _I'll take the inside, you take the outside,_ he suggested. Like her, he could blow up enemy property all day long on his own initiative.

R. Amelia scanned the outside cameras, waiting for an opportunity. Interesting ... a spider-thing had gotten itself hopelessly entangled in some brush and one of its buddies' trailing communications wires. A technician was running up to free it. Where had he come from?

There! A head popped up behind a hummock close to the station.

Hoping that the mysterious heat rays were quiet, she quickly aimed one at the entangled spider-thing, which was still out of the technician's line of sight. She fired. The ray itself was invisible, but the spider-thing exploded at once and the surrounding brush caught fire. Nice!

After staring in consternation at the smoke rising above the unseen explosion, the technician retreated without an attempt at staying under cover. Perhaps he thought the spider-thing had exploded of its own accord.

The security system's microphones picked up the sound of machine-gun fire. R. Amelia heard a mental chuckle from Quintus. He had just now set the interior defenses to fully automatic, so they'd shoot anything that moved, and the automatic system had bagged the spider-thing at once. It was nice knowing that there were no humans or androids loose inside the station.

He suspected there was just one more remaining in the hangar. It had dropped from a ventilation duct and scurried off moments before he'd engaged the automatic systems.

Quintus smilingly asked R. Amelia for a moment of her time, and she piloted him to the floor drain the spider-things had emerged from. He scooted the drain cover back into place with his foot (a task of immense delicacy by Megadeus standards), stepped back, and welded it shut with his eye lasers. Then he welded the other three drain covers, as yet untouched, for good measure.

Normally their home-court advantage would include an intimate knowledge of the station's construction, including the ventilation and drain systems, but the amnesia prevented this. Quintus pondered the visible portions, but these revealed little. R. Amelia returned her attention to the outdoors.

Wait! The outdoor spider-things had been trailing some wires, but the ones inside were not. They must be radio-controlled! Probably via a repeater in the drain or the ducts, maybe both. But why weren't there security cameras in these places?

Oh. There were. She mentally nudged Quintus and pointed this out. He gleefully enabled the automated defenses for these sections and within seconds they were rewarded by a ragged series of explosions, even before they had found the appropriate cameras.

Rewinding the footage, they saw a gratifyingly thorough deployment of claymore mines that shredded the spider-things without destroying the pipes and ducts. Even the cameras survived! Some engineer had really earned his paycheck. If anything had been acting as a radio repeater, it was off the air now. And there were apparently plenty more claymores protecting the systems.

Quintus and R. Amelia vied with each other to be the first to discover the radio control channel used by the remaining spider-thing. Quintus won, as expected—the equipment was part of him, after all. Discovering the frequencies and doing something useful with them were two different things, and Quintus was still struggling with the problem when the spider-thing suddenly exploded, damaging the corner of a tarp-covered pile of who-knows what. Quintus didn't think he was responsible and guessed it had been a dead-man switch, destroying the spider-thing after it stayed out of communication with its base for too long.

* * *

Roger was surprised to see Dora's face appear Big O's center console screen. He said, "Hello, Dora."

"Roger, I've found Alan Gabriel and his Megadeus."

"Is this the same one Beck told us about?"

"No, that's a different one. I'm luring Alan's Megadeus to near where you will emerge. You need to kill it."

Roger glanced at Dorothy, but she was leaving this to him. He smiled at Dora and said, "I think that can be arranged."

"And we need to rescue Alan if we can."

"Dora, I know it's none of my business, but I don't like the idea of reuniting him with Persephone."

"She broke up with him."

"That's good news. What armament does it have?"

"Dorothy knows," said Dora, and cut the connection.

Roger glanced at R. Dorothy, who said, "From what I gathered from encountering it in the Underground, it has a plasma lance and a force screen like the one on Big Fau."

Roger looked grave. The force screen made it unlikely that he could harm the Megadeus at a distance, and he knew from experience that a plasma lance was a real threat to Big O. "Does Dora know all this?"

"No. We didn't discuss it."

"Your little sister has a touching faith in me, Dorothy."

"We all do, Roger."

* * *

R. Amelia would have taken a deep breath to calm her nerves, but her lungs didn't work that way. Neither did her nerves, come to think of it. She opened Quintus' foot hatch and ran zigzags back to the radio room.

She looked at the transmitter and rolled her eyes. It wasn't plugged in! Of course it wasn't; she'd unplugged it herself when she'd inspected it. She flipped the power switch to "Off" and plugged in the power cord. Then she flipped the power switch to "On."

Indicator lights came on and there was a hum. Within a few seconds the needles stabilized. Everything looked good. No distress beacon, though.

 _Well, of course not, silly!_ There was a second switch that engaged the distress beacon function. She flipped it.

Some part of her mind announced urgently that she was receiving a distress call. Interesting. She hadn't realized that she possessed this capability.

* * *

Beck watched Megadeus XQ-7 in fascination. It still hadn't detected Big B, who was standing motionless, with a hill behind him and a grove of trees in front of him. It wasn't great camouflage, but XQ-7 seemed obsessed by the area that once held the emulator. It coursed back and forth, quartering the area, sometimes coming within half a mile of Big B.

Beck looked up from the screen. "Got anything, Dori?"

"Nothing new, Jason. It's definitely an enemy. There is damage to the core memory, but it's minor enough that it's not clear what it means."

"No ideas about its weaponry?"

"A faint impression that it is far from helpless. We should wait for Big O."

Beck shifted restlessly in the command chair. "I hate waiting."

"I know, you do, Jason." She moved from her post beside the cockpit and squeezed inside, standing next to him and putting an arm around him.

He looked up at her and smiled. To his dismay, her eyes suddenly glazed. "Incoming distress signal," she said in a voice gone suddenly robotic. "Message follows." Then her voice shifted to a pleasant alto that was not her own. "Station under threat by a single enemy Megadeus and a single laser cannon. Armored doors intact but welded shut. Unable to activate station defenses. Station contains one active friendly Megadeus, one active friendly Class M android, one mothballed friendly Megadeuses, and one mothballed enemy Megadeus. Request assistance. Home in on this beacon."

R. Dori's eyes focused. She looked troubled. "The voice on the recording was a Class M android. We need to help her, Jason."

Beck straightened. He pointed at the central monitor. "Look!"

XQ-7 was moving off in a straight line.

"It heard the beacon as well, Jason," said R. Dori. "It's headed in the right direction." She closed her eyes for a moment, then said, "Oh, my."

"What?"

"The message was sent in the clear. No encryption."

"Get on the horn and tell Roger we'll pursue XQ-7 and see about this damsel in distress at the same time. Damn! I wish we'd brought the rocket backpack."

Beck got Big B underway, and soon realized that XQ-7, funny-looking though it was, had quite a turn of speed. Soon it was out of sight.

After a moment, R. Dori reported, "Big O is fighting the Megadeus that kidnapped R. Alan Gabriel."

* * *

Big O burst out of the Underground and strode forward. He detected a Megadeus not far ahead of him, marching straight towards him.

A moment later, Dora's car came into view, speeding ahead of the enemy Megadeus. It swerved around Big O without slowing. Roger could just make out Tony in the driver's seat through the car's tinted glass.

The central screen lit up and Alan Gabriel's face appeared. This was the first time Roger had set eyes on him since his reincarnation. He seemed more human as an android than he had as a cyborg, but the sight of him still enraged Roger.

R. Alan was wide-eyed with terror. He shrieked, "Roger Smith, save me!" Then his whole body convulsed. He screamed in agony, a scream that went on and on for an impossibly long time, then suddenly became limp and silent.

Several seconds later, he raised his head unsteadily and said in a lifeless monotone, "Surrender yourself, Roger Smith, and we will let your precious Dorothy go. You cannot escape. Surrender now."

"I do not negotiate with monsters like you," snarled Roger. "You are evil incarnate. It's time to send you back to hell!"

Big O's hand retracted and the four-barreled Big O Thunder was revealed. But before he could fire, a transparent hemispherical force shield grew around Big Whatsis, much like the one Big Fau had used.

Roger fired the Big O Thunder anyway, and the plasma bolts hurled themselves like heavenly fire at Big Whatsis. They smashed into the force screen and vanished.

Big Whatsis continued walking towards Big O. A plasma lance appeared in his right hand.

Roger retransformed Big O's arm, preparing to match the plasma lance with fists and forearm shields. He told R. Dorothy, "Fire missiles the moment the shield is down."

The shield vanished. R. Dorothy fired all twenty-four of Big O's missiles. But it had been a ruse: the shield snapped back into place and the missiles shattered against it, their burning fragments tumbling harmlessly to the ground. In moments the shield would drop again and the battle would be decided hand-to-hand.

R. Dorothy's eyes glazed. "Incoming distress signal." She became rigid.

"Dorothy!" shouted Roger. "Snap out of it! We have work to do!"

Dorothy's eyes focused just as Big Whatsis dropped his shield and lunged with the plasma lance. Big O twisted away from the lunge and grabbed Big Whastis' other arm near the shoulder and pulled, sending Big Whatsis stumbling forward a couple of paces. Two quick steps put Big O directly behind Big Whatsis, where he landed first a right and then a left to Big Whatsis' head, hoping to stun the Megadeus or damage the core memory.

Big Whatsis spun with surprising speed and stabbed the plasma lance towards Big O's chest. Big O took a quick step backwards and grabbed for the wrist of the hand holding the plasma lance, but missed. Big Whatsis slashed at Big O's face, connecting above the jawline, plowing a scar over a foot thick in a line extending almost to the ear. White-hot molten metal rained down onto the transparent throat armor. Some of it stuck there, partly obscuring Roger's view. Big O ducked and stepped forward, grabbed for the wrist again, and succeeded this time. With the plasma lance barely restrained, still waving dangerously near Big O's head, Big O landed two heavy blows to Big Whatsis' throat armor, partly shattering it and exposing the cockpit and the screaming, terrified R. Alan Gabriel.

Big Whatsis took several steps backwards and the force screen snapped on again. Roger backed up Big O a couple of steps and redeployed the Big O Thunder.

There was a pause, then the force screen vanished and a huge cloud of white smoke billowed up between the two Megadeuses. Roger fired into the smoke, but soon it was clear that his fire had hit nothing vital. Big Whatsis was fleeing at top speed. He wasn't much faster than Big O, but increased his lead steadily, steering to put trees and ridges between himself and Big O.

Roger got one good shot with the chromebuster before he was out of sight, slagging down the left shoulder, leaving the left arm hanging limp and useless. Then Big Whatsis was out of sight.

R. Dorothy spoke. "Enemy is homing in on the distress beacon." Then, "Incoming call from Dori, XQ-7 is also homing in on the distress beacon. Big B is pursuing."

* * *

Grand Dominus Douglas was having a calm discussion with his mini scorpion-bot unit commander about their remaining options. It seemed that the station's defenses were now fully online and it would be foolish to press another attack. Several bots were on the hill and perhaps could be withdrawn safely, while others hadn't been deployed at all. They should be conserved, of course, but perhaps they could be useful in a less aggressive task.

He felt an urgent summons from Big Tertius. Something was up. He ran to his Megadeus and was soon in the command seat.

Big Tertius shared the distress message. That damned android! Douglas summoned up the spider-bot camera footage that had been shared with Big Tertius. The footage was blurry, but the android appeared to take the form of a slim and rather dark young man. Very fast: impossible to hit when zigzagging across the hangar floor. Daring and resourceful.

Douglas played the distress message again. The android had a pleasant tenor voice. What a waste! Could the android be captured, converted, reprogrammed? He'd have to look into that. "Wait!" said Douglas. "How did you decrypt this?"

 _It was sent in the clear,_ replied Big Tertius.

"Is that normal operating procedure?"

 _I don't recall_.

If they assumed that Big O and Big B, both assumed to be in Paradigm City, followed the beacon, how long before they arrived? He brought up maps. Hardly any time at all if Big B used his winged rocket backpack. Otherwise it would depend on how far the underground track network shared by the two Megadeuses extended. He called his radio operator in the camp and told him to order surveillance on Hangar B. That might give some advance warning if Big B took to the air. But he had no way of detecting the Megadeus' comings and going underground.

Where was Big Alpha? No one knew. Big Alpha never stayed anywhere very long and was usually near hamlets too small to infiltrate. Damn!

He estimated that it would take his enemies at least four hours to reach him, unless Big B flew in. Big Tertius might be a match for Big B, but Beck was far less gentlemanly than Roger Smith and might slaughter his men rather than ignoring them.

Time to leave, then. He returned to camp and looked over the maps with his senior men. They quickly found a delightful spot: one that overlooked the only plausible approach from Paradigm City. It would allow them to spring an ambush or remain unseen or even retreat at their option.

He gave the orders. The first vehicles left at once.

* * *

Will Henderson had been napping in a hammock outside the tumbledown farmhouse they were using at the moment, far from the city. Big Alpha was calling him from his post in the barnyard.

R. Emily ran from the house, the screen door banging behind her. She said, "There's a distress beacon. A message is coming in along with it."

They ran to Big Alpha, who had already bent down and put a hand on the ground, palm up. They jumped aboard and he lifted them to the throat hatch, which opened and let them jump to the command deck. This saved thirty seconds compared to using the interior elevator.

CAST IN THE NAME OF GOD …  
YE NOT GUILTY.

"Big Alpha, action!" called Will, a big grin on his face, as usual. Big Alpha started walking. He said to R. Emily, "I don't remember distress beacons, do you?"

"No, but Big Alpha does. Message follows. 'Station under threat by a single enemy Megadeus and a single laser cannon. Armored doors intact but welded shut. Unable to activate station defenses. Station contains one active friendly Megadeus, one active friendly Class M android, one mothballed friendly Megadeuses, and one mothballed enemy Megadeus. Request assistance. Home in on this beacon.' The message repeats after that."

"Wow, they sure put plenty of bait on that hook!" said Will cheerfully. "Think it's a trap?"

"Probably."

"Let's walk right into it! That's always fun. Though the cloaking engine makes it almost too easy."

"Are we doing this solo?" she asked, smiling.

"I know my limitations."

"So do I, Will. You don't have any."

"I was wondering when you'd notice that. But let's not be greedy. We need to teach our Paradigm pals how the real pros behave at a victory celebration."

"That's generous of you. And maybe we can let them lend a helping hand in the actual battle as well?"

"If you like," Will conceded graciously, "but it's their lack of partying skills that has me really concerned. What was that old rule of thumb?"

R. Emily frowned in concentration, then she said, "The victory party should have at least as many casualties as the battle?"

"That's the one."

"Calling Smith Manor now..."

* * *

Angel knocked on the door to Persephone's apartment. Persephone let her in.

"Afternoon, Red. I just dropped by to say hi and tell you that ..." she trailed off, having noticed Ricky on the couch. "Oh. Hi, Ricky. I didn't know you were here."

She'd visited Ricky a couple of times in his hospital room, first in Dora's company and again on her own. They'd talked mostly about Megadeuses both times, of course. Ricky liked her.

Ricky said, "The hospital threw me out last night, and Persephone kindly took me in."

"I'll bet she did," said Angel. "Congratulations." She turned to Persephone. "Does the little squirt know about this?"

"Not yet," said Persephone. "She had to go somewhere with Tony. Wait a minute! Does she know about what?"

"That Ricky's here and you two are ... how should I put this?"

Persephone suggested, "That we're engaged?"

"Really?" She looked at first Persephone, then Ricky. "Huh. Congratulations again. Now about Dora ..."

Persephone said, "I need to tell her first myself, in person."

"Yes, you do. Okay, mum's the word." She looked troubled for a moment, then dismissed the thought and said, "I wanted to let you know that ..." her voice trailed off. She looked Persephone slowly up and down, then Ricky. She shook herself and continued, "Sorry. The cops have lunch in their break area. Good stuff, plenty for everyone. I ordered it myself."

Angel scowled. "This is ridiculous! What's worse is, Dan didn't come home last night. He fell asleep at his desk again, the rat." Then a slow smile lit up her face. "He's here now, though. Hey, Red, can I borrow your apartment for a while?"

"Sure. We were just leaving," Persephone lied cheerfully.

Angel strode purposefully out of the apartment. She soon returned with Dastun, who looked almost nonchalant; nearly businesslike. Ricky and Persephone tried valiantly to keep straight faces. The bedroom door slammed.

"It's time to practice walking with crutches," said Ricky, using them to swing clumsily out of the apartment.

"Apparently," agreed Persephone. "How can I help?"

"Keep an eye on my form, especially if it looks like I'm getting in trouble. And try not to laugh too much."

"Okay. Do you want me to stand anywhere in particular?"

"Let's try putting you a couple of paces ahead of me, so I won't trip over you but maybe you can steady me if I fall, or if we both fall, at least I'll have something soft to land on."

"Stand ready to lend iron support while remaining soft and pillowy. Check."

Ricky aimed himself at the tunnel Persephone had donated to the Military Police. He hoped he could get there before the food was all gone.

* * *

Grand Dominus Douglas was in the command seat, half a mile back from the road and the concealed ambush. He was unhappy about this, but it was important the Big Tertius remain outside detection range, which was at least a quarter-mile.

The road passed through a notch between two hills, and his men were deployed on one side of the road, just past the notch, concealed by trees and a low ridge. He had a screen of men and the laser cannon hidden just out of sight over the top of the ridge, and his vehicles not far behind, ready to carry his men to safety once more, if it came to that. Which it probably would. As the sole Dominus of the Movement, Douglas and Big Tertius could not afford to lose even a single battle. The Union, which was more a heretical offshoot than a true part of the Movement, had sent far too many men and robots to their deaths, men and robots that Douglas would have nurtured tenderly, until their time had truly come.

It broke his heart to abandon the dashing android and the three Megadeuses at the station. Would such a golden opportunity ever come again?

The telephone rang. They had strung field telephone wires to Big Tertius rather than risk the use of radio. His communications sergeant said, "Sir? A Megadeus of unknown type is approaching down the road. It's a quadruped, sir."

Douglas was alarmed. "Is it a Leviathan?"

"No, sir. It's an unknown type. It's moving at about thirty miles per hour."

That was faster than Big Tertius. "Keep your heads down and let it pass by if that's what it wants."

Douglas kept his eyes glued to his instruments. Soon he was rewarded by a chime and a display, which reported in order: "Megadeus. Friend. XQ-7. Operational. No Dominus or android. Seeking friendly forces."

A friendly Megadeus! Should he race over and take control himself? It would probably allow this. He could park it somewhere out of the way and return to Big Tertius.

* * *

Bill O'Malley was a chunky, balding, middle-aged man working as the Movement's cook. It wasn't his best talent: he usually worked as a heavy equipment operator or mechanic, but he knew his way around a kitchen and the men had to eat.

One of his buddies, Stu, was a little green around the gills at the thought of being in the path of maybe three Megadeuses, so Bill was keeping him company on the front line. He wasn't frightened; he had the feeling that this was his lucky day.

When XQ-7 came into sight, he stood up, patted Stu on the shoulder, and said, "Stay here, buddy. I'm gonna take a closer look."

Stu said something in reply, but Bill missed it. He strolled down the ridge towards XQ-7.

Sure enough, XQ-7 turned to face him and stopped. It was a funny old robot, Bill thought, but it seemed right, somehow. It's head was like a turret in the middle of its back, while there was a turret in front where its head should be. There were four legs and no visible arms. It was a dull brown color with black trim. Bill was wearing a tan work shirt and black trousers, so that was all right.

He supposed people would say that this was like a dream, but it was the other way around: it was exactly like waking up. When he got close, XQ-7 extruded a metal tentacle ending in a disc about a yard across, placing the disc on the ground. Bill stepped aboard. The tentacle rose. Bill pulled a cigar out of his shirt pocket and lit it. As he puffed the cigar he took a look around, nodding to Stu and making a lazy salute in the direction of Big Tertius.

A hatch opened in XQ-7's hull and he stepped into the fore command deck, which was built into the turret. He was not surprised to see the armored cockpit with its transparent dome and red command chair. The closer he got to the cockpit, the more he remembered.

When he was seated in the command chair, the center console rose and scrolled the message:

CAST IN THE NAME OF GOD ...  
YE NOT GUILTY

His cigar clamped in his teeth, he growled, "XQ-7, action!"

Yes, today was definitely a good day.

In his mind, he could hear XQ-7 greeting him, but this was not the time. "Pipe down and get Big Tertius on the line."

Douglas' face appeared on the monitor. Bill said, "XQ-7 acquired, Skipper. Where do you want her?"

"Bring it close to me if you can do it without leaving an obvious back trail. And don't smoke on duty."

Bill found a likely path off the road and urged XQ-7 into motion. When that was in hand, he took the cigar out of his mouth, blew the smoke at the image on the monitor, knocked the ash into the convenient ashtray, and put the cigar back in his mouth. "I'm the Dominus of this here Megadeus, Skipper. Show some respect."

Douglas looked angry for just a moment, then he nodded and said, "I'm promoting you to Major. Major O'Malley, once in position, assess the combat readiness of XQ-7 and any urgent requirements and report your findings to me at once."

"Yes, sir." Bill cut the connection.

Bill halted XQ-7 about two hundred yards away from Big Tertius. XQ-7 had much to say. He listened for a while, then said, "For Christ's sake! Stop with the mushy stuff. You're embarrassing me. No, I'm not going to say it. I'm not! Stop asking! I'm not going to say I missed you too. And I'm not going to say I love you."

After a moment he added, "No, of course I didn't say that. Weren't you listening? Oh, have it your own way, you crazy broad."

He started running systems checks, then said, "What do you know about those Class M androids? They sound like the bee's knees. You got the right interfaces? Good. What if we liberate an enemy one? Would that work? Hell, let's give it a shot. I heard they're all women. I don't think the Skipper likes women. We oughta have first dibs."

Scene 23. R. Alan

R. Alan Gabriel was astonished to see half a dozen men run towards Big Whatsis. Some were shouting and waving their arms. "What in the world?" he asked.

This enraged Big Whatsis, but he retained just enough self-control to cast a hopeful eye over the men. Yes, that man there: the one with the confident bearing. He'd do. Big Whatsis lowered a hand to the ground and the man climbed into the open palm, grinning. As Big Whatsis raised his hand to the throat hatch, he began freeing R. Alan from his probe-cable lashings. The command seat rightly belonged to the Dominus.

R. Alan stood gratefully and exited the cockpit just as the man ducked through the partly opened throat hatch, which had jammed due to the damage to the throat armor.

Smiling, the man walked straight to the command chair and seated himself. The floor console rose and the dome fell, sealing him into the cockpit.

R. Alan was attracted by the man's confident, military bearing and his manly physique.

The console scrolled the message:

CA^*($G#58900%$#%(  
*) NO%(^*%** $

With only a slight hesitation, the man cried, "Megadeus, Designation Unknown, action!"

R. Alan was smitten. Such a resourceful, masterful man! Such a commanding yet pleasant voice!

The man said, "Place a call to Big Tertius."

Instead, Big Whatsis turned his attention to the other men who had come forward hopefully. He stamped the two nearest men, but was obliged to vaporize the other three with his eye lasers as they fled in sudden panic. He made this last by missing them on purpose until they had almost reached safety. When they were all dead, he looked around for more targets, vaporizing one onlooker who was standing frozen, his mouth agape, and another who was not quite as well concealed as he had hoped. Then he got under way without saying a word to his new Dominus or contacting Big Tertius, continuing his journey to the station.

The man tried to stop him, but none of the controls responded. They were as rigid as if they had been welded in place. He was trapped, helpless, inside the cockpit.

The horror of these murders left R. Alan near despair, his mind sluggish, his body rigid. His clearest thought was that the sheer physical and moral presence of the handsome, confident new Dominus could have extracted loyalty from a rock. How could Big Whatsis be so oblivious?

The man asked R. Alan angrily, "Are you doing this?"

"Not at all. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is R. Alan Gabriel, a purely nonviolent Class M android, and this is Big Whatsis. He is, let us say, differently sane—so very differently sane—and we are both his prisoners. And unless I am mistaken, we are being pursued by Roger Smith in Big O."

The central screen lit up. A man R. Alan had never seen before appeared. Handsome, in late middle age, well-groomed, he looked like a Paradigm City bigwig, except that he was seated in a Megadeus cockpit. "What's going on, York?"

"My companion and I are being kidnapped by a rogue Megadeus, sir. He killed several men. None of the controls are responsive."

"Your companion?"

"Yes, sir. An android."

Douglas was intrigued. "Is it heading to the station?"

"I believe so, sir."

"Damn. We expect all three enemy Megadeuses to converge there." He cut the connection.

Big Whatsis gave no immediate evidence of having heard, but when he was well out of detection range of Big Tertius, he departed the road, hoping to avoid any more battles today.

Three miles off the road, Big Whatsis suddenly stopped moving. The sense of his malevolent presence vanished.

York asked, "What just happened?"

"Big Whatsis has fallen unconscious. He has these fits from time to time, dear boy," said R. Alan. "One of his funny little quirks. I'll be back in a jiffy."

He slid down the emergency ladder to the catwalk in Big Whatsis' lower abdomen and the golden sphere of the recently installed reactor. R. Alan feared that the lock on the access hatch would defeat him, but it had been left at its factory setting of 10-20-30. Opening the door, he felt Big Whatsis beginning to regain consciousness. Terrified, he felt Big Whatsis reach into his mind to immobilize and punish him. He slapped the two widely separated "Emergency Shutdown" buttons at the same time.

Most of the lights went out. The sense of Big Whatsis' presence faded. Soon all was silent. R. Alan, shaken by all that had happened, sat on the deck and wished he could weep. After a few minutes he got to his feet and climbed slowly back to the command deck. The emergency lights were on but everything else was still and silent. R. Alan opened the cockpit's emergency hatch and cranked the exit open by hand, then he helped York out.

York said, "Thanks. Alan, isn't it?" They shook hands. "I didn't realize androids were so useful. The name's York, by the way. Harold York, but my friends call me Hal. I'm part of the laser-cannon team. What happens now?"

R. Alan said, "We either fall into the hands of whoever arrives first to salvage Big Whatsis, or we stroll off on our own and reveal ourselves only to our friends."

"I like the second option best. But are your friends the same as my friends?"

"I'm sure your friends are delightful, but I have the most darling Megadeus waiting for me back home, and he'll fret if I keep him waiting."

"A Megadeus, eh? Does he also have a Dominus?"

"Alas, no. A charming little girl who is not his Dominus at all can serve in a pinch, but he needs his true Dominus."

"And who would that be?"

"The amnesia makes it so hard to be certain. He's a man, though. Most definitely a man."

"I'm most definitely a man. I don't suppose you'd introduce us."

R. Alan was delighted. York was not Big X's Dominus, but the main thing was to get home, and it would be far easier with York's help than without it. And besides ...

"It would be my very great pleasure!"

"Great. You didn't kill this Megadeus, did you?"

"He'll be his old homicidal self just as soon as someone turns his reactor back on."

They moved off quickly. It was a good plan, but Big Tertius happened to cross their path. He compelled R. Alan to approach and surrender. R. Alan was soon competently bound and bundled into a truck with some surly fellows who were tempted to blame him for the deaths of their buddies.

York nonchalantly hitched a ride on another of Douglas' trucks, and soon the Movement was redeployed once more, with XQ-7 and the various vehicles assembling near the motionless bulk of Big Whatsis. They were now so far off the road that they had every expectation of being overlooked.

* * *

It was almost dark before Roger Smith took Big O close to the station. Beck was in Big B a half-mile to his left, while Will in Big Alpha was a half-mile to his right. There was no sign of the forces mentioned in the distress call, nor of Big Whatsis, nor of XQ-7.

The console chimed. The image of an android appeared, sitting in a Megadeus command chair, probe cables plugged into her skull. A slim woman with an exotic dark complexion and short hair. She spoke. "Friendly forces, identify yourself. I am R. Amelia, commanding this station with my Megadeus, Quintus." She seemed ill at ease.

"I'm Roger Smith," said Roger, "I'm the commander of Big O. Behind me is my android, R. Dorothy Wayneright. The other two Megadeuses are my friends. How can we assist you, miss?"

"Lieutenant," corrected R. Amelia crisply. "We were under siege until this afternoon. I tried to send an update, but the distress transmitter blew its final amplifier. We want to avoid capture, to find a Dominus for Leviathan 5, and get assistance in decommissioning the enemy Megadeus here. Take an inventory the parts and equipment. Put someone in charge of station defenses. And find my Dominus ..." she ran down, turning her head away. A moment later she looked back, her eyes wide and sad. "Yes. Find my Dominus. Please. I need him."

Roger smiled at her. "We'll do our best, Lieutenant. Have you seen any other Megadeuses? We were pursuing a strange quadruped Megadeus named XQ-7 and a Megadeus with an unknown name with a damaged left arm and partly shattered throat armor. It held an android we'd like to rescue, R. Alan Gabriel."

R. Amelia didn't react to any of the names, but said at once. "We have detected nothing, just the original Megadeus, Big Tertius, and his associated irregular forces. The Dominus was a tall man in late middle age."

Roger nodded. "I'd like to relieve you of command of the station, Lieutenant."

She nodded, "Agreed. I'll free one of the small doors myself. The big doors need to be unwelded from the outside for minimal damage. I recommend eye lasers and a spotter inside."

"All right," said Roger.

R. Dorothy spoke for the first time, "Amelia, is there anything we can do for you personally?"

R. Amelia turned her head away again. Then she looked back and said, "Could you send someone to talk to me? Someone nice? But not a Dominus. I can't ... I don't want ... just not a Dominus."

"Of course," said R. Dorothy.

R. Amelia cut the connection.

After a moment, R. Dorothy said, "Roger?"

"Yes?"

"Are we nice?"

Roger smiled at her. "I've always thought so." He continued, "I'd better call Dastun. We're going to need a Military Police presence. And we should probably bring Tony here as well. There'll be a lot of mechanical work to do. Maybe Persephone, too. Dora says she's almost as good as Tony at a lot of things."

"Persephone is nice, Roger."

"So she is. I'll call Dastun and see if he can't fly them here in the morning. They probably can't find this place in the dark. Dora will insist on coming, too, I suppose. And we need to start looking for those three Megadeuses. We'll have to move fast if we want to keep the initiative."

R. Dorothy placed the call for him.

* * *

After briefly interrogating the captive android, R. Alan Gabriel, Grand Dominus Douglas decided to take a chance on him in spite of his odd mannerisms. They unbound him and Douglas, York, and R. Alan got to work on Big Whatsis. First they carefully isolated the core memory, then they re-enabled the reactor. Next, R. Alan demonstrated that he could control the Megadeus in manual mode without further modification. None of the extensive changes developed by the Union were needed at all! This saved them days of tedious work.

R. Alan couldn't fire the weapons, though; only the Dominus could do that. York, of course, was given that job, along with a promotion to Captain.

Big Whatsis was sluggish compared to a Megadeus with its own core memory online, but Big Whatsis was still a powerful fighting machine.

They tested the right arm and its plasma lance; they were fine. The left arm was still hanging limp and useless. Right arm, plasma lance, and eye lasers were all Big Whatsis had to fight with. But everyone was delighted. They'd gone from one Megadeus the three in a single day! That was as many as their enemies had. Who would have thought the odds could be evened up so quickly?

Douglas retired for a few hours sleep after passing the word that they would not go on the offensive tomorrow. He was not going to hurl his two new Megadeuses into combat right away. Soon, though. Very soon.

* * *

R. Alan and York talked until dawn, when York took himself off in search of breakfast and sleep. R. Alan stayed behind. He needed to think.

He was attracted to York, no doubt about it. Was York attracted to him? He couldn't tell. That was a bad sign. And Douglas ... there were possibilities there, but Douglas played his cards very close to his manly breast, and so did his Megadeus. They didn't trust him.

In the meantime, what was happening to poor, shattered Big X? Was anyone taking care of him?

The little kitten wanted R. Alan back. That must be partly Big X's influence. Therefore Dora had intended to rescue him from Big Whatsis' shattered body and throw herself into his arms, resuming the scene that dear Persephone interrupted all those weeks ago. He had to keep believing that.

The little kitten would take him back to his red-haired queen and his beloved Big X; a Big X soon to be renewed, reborn, and made whole again. What bliss! What a foursome they would make!

And then, inevitably, his true Dominus would appear, shining like the sun, amazed and grateful for what his clever Alan had accomplished.

Perhaps then, at long last, it would be possible for R. Alan himself to be made whole, to once more become the android he had been, so long ago, before the accumulation of wounds that never healed, life after life, world without end.

Or perhaps his Dominus would somehow read his secret thoughts; secret even from himself, and help him lay down his burdens at last, and gently and lovingly set him free; put him out of his misery, now and forever...

He was thinking more clearly now, he realized, if morbidly. Big Whatsis had affected his thinking more than he'd known; some of what he'd thought was his own madness had belonged to Big Whatsis all along. Such a relief!

He would have to escape before one of the other Megadeuses ensorcelled him. He'd take Big Whatsis and York with him if he could, but flee home to Big X alone if he must. Either way, it had to be done soon.

* * *

Dora could barely put one foot in front of the other as she walked into Persephone's apartment after midnight. Such a long, busy, eventful day!

Tony had dropped her off at the new guard post on the surface. He had kissed her goodbye on his own initiative, which surprised and pleased her.

She might have spent the night in her room at Smith manor or Hanger B, but with her sisters out in the Wasteland, it seemed too lonely. She might even have spent the night in Tony's guest room, but the impropriety would have bothered him, and she was so exhausted! She didn't want to be a bad guest. So Hangar X it was.

She had forgotten to call ahead. Too late now. All she wanted was to put her arms around Persephone and sleep for a week.

Dora set her carpetbag on the kitchen floor and walked slowly through the living room and into the bedroom.

It was pitch black in the bedroom. She felt for her nightgown on the back of the chair near the door. She undressed, especially glad to be rid of her boots and the surprisingly irksome shoulder holster, and donned her nightgown.

Moving to the bed, she encountered something bulky near the edge, hard and rough-textured to the touch. What on earth? Persephone knew better than to pile stuff on the bed!

"Hmm?" came a sleepy voice from nearby. "Oh, hi, Dora."

Startled, she took a step back. Then she understood. "Ricky?" The bulky object on the bed must be his leg in its plaster cast.

"Yeah. Hope I didn't startle you."

She felt a flash of anger. She supposed she wasn't surprised that he'd crashed in Persephone's apartment, and no one could sleep on Persephone's couch in a full-leg cast, but the only thing Dora wanted in the whole world right now was to sleep in Persephone's arms, and Ricky was in her way! She was so exhausted, it brought her close to tears.

Ricky said, "Hang on a sec." In a different tone of voice, he said, "Hey, sleepyhead, shove over. Dora's home. Make room. That's right. More. More. That's good." To Dora, he said, "Climb aboard."

Grumpy and dissatisfied, Dora climbed into the middle of the bed, careful not to jostle Ricky, who after all had just been released from the hospital.

The moment she was under the covers, Persephone wrapped her arms around her and kissed her sleepily. Most of Dora's grumpiness vanished, but she was glad it was pitch dark in here. In theory she didn't mind if Ricky saw them kiss, but in practice she did.

She was also glad that Ricky had scooted Persephone over far enough that she wasn't pressed up against him. Or did this mean that Ricky found her repugnant? He'd always been a patient in traction to her; she'd never quite thought of him as a man before. Sharing a bed with him was an awkward time to start.

He murmured, "Welcome home, Dora. Good night."

Reassured, she snuggled closer to Persephone. A moment later she was asleep.

[To be continued]


End file.
